The Wolf and the Dragon
by SkoomaBee
Summary: Kirkwall has fallen. Hawke and company have sailed far north, and when they are split up, Fenris finds himself with a mysterious and wild Bosmer loner, a woman whose Voice is her greatest weapon. FenrisxF!Dovakiin, mentions of HawkeXIsabela. T for now. Spoilers for both games, obviously.
1. Prologue

**Hello - welcome to my FenrisXF!Dovakiin crossover fic! Before anyone reads too far into this... this takes place in Skyrim _after_ the 3rd act in DA2. It will be Fenris in Tamriel, a new world for him. Not exactly an AU. I will try to keep everything as accurate as possible, and will be referencing all appropriate wikis. NPCs that you see in Skyrim will be in here, like the Jarls and barkeeps and everything else. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

The ship heaved and lurched. Its hull groaned with the strain, the sails furled and whipped about in the howling wind. The rain was a terror - a wall of water so thick that Fenris could hardly see ten feet in front of him. It was cold too, and he felt frozen to the bone.

_Why did I choose this?_ His thoughts screamed at him. He clutched the railing on the side of the ship, stomach roiling. _Why did we all choose this?_

Even Isabela's caramel skin was pale in fear. She loved being at sea, but not when the sea was trying to pull her down with it. Hawke was with her, a firm hand on her waist as he braced himself against the storm. As if that would do a thing.

Fenris retched, his fear ripping through him. He had only been on a boat a handful of times. Most of those times were with Danarius, on luxurious vessels with velvet seats in the cabin and spiced wine. The other time he had been crammed in with the cargo, barely scraping enough money together to get off Seheron and back to land, alone in all the world. No time he had ever been at sea had he experienced a storm like this, and even Isabela, who was weathered in this type of thing, was at a loss for what to do.

The storm had struck them suddenly from the north, and what had looked like threatening clouds had dumped buckets of hail on them at first before making the sea lurch and pitch, and then the rain came, and it was as frozen as the hail. It had happened just as they were sure they glimpsed land - to the south, some black line on the horizon. The tide worked against them, as did the wind, all of nature declaring war on their modest ship.

How long had they been at sea? He couldn't say. Months, he was sure. Their food supply was low. They had heard of land beyond, far in the north, and sailed off in pursuit of the pipe dream. Fenris knew better. But he'd rather die at sea than spend the next short years of his life on the run with Hawke. He was sick of running. They were still running, though, but no one would follow them out here.

They were lost. Completely, utterly, hopelessly lost. Fenris heaved over the railing as the ship bobbed dangerously, making him slam into the railing. It knocked the wind out of him and made him choke on his own vomit, only for a moment. He clutched the railing, and half-dared to crawl back in the cabin. But if the worst happened, if they capsized or hit something, the deck would be the safest place to be.

He was sure he heard a roar, but it was probably only the wind in his ears, the rain in his eyes, the cold in his bones and the ache in his muscles. It had gotten dark over the course of the storm, which had only gotten worse, and Fenris was sure he was hearing things. The roar was familiar, and he was sure it wasn't the weather. He had heard this kind of roar before. In the Deep Roads. In the Bone Pit.

Fenris looked around him, but saw little. Isabela and Hawke were clutching onto each other. The pirate queen was frightened and had surrendered to the ocean. Merrill was elsewhere, and he didn't exactly care, probably with Varric.

There was that roar again, and it sent a shiver up his curved spine. It sounded closer than before, frightening. He realized it wasn't the wind, wasn't the wind at all. Fenris lurched to his feet, hoping no massive waves would slam them, and he ran on the slippery deck to Hawke and Isabela.

"Do you hear it?" He had to shout in the storm, and Hawke nodded.

"That's not the storm," Isabela said, looking out at the storm around them, and seeing nothing. Fenris grabbed onto the wheel for support and the ship heaved to the side. Hawke cursed and then pointed behind Fenris.

He swiveled his head and saw as a great shadow in the darkness emerged, at the bow of the ship. It crashed onto the boat, massive claws ripping into the hull as it latched on to get balanced. The dragon threw its narrow head back on a long neck and screamed, its thin wings unfurling and then slamming onto the deck.

"Oh, shit on a stick," Isabela said, her voice hollow and terrified.

"We need Varric and Merril," Hawke shouted. The dragon, a white and gray beast with tall spikes on its back, spotted them with beady black eyes and roared.

It lurched onto the deck and tore a hole in, bigger than Fenris. He unsheathed his sword, fear splitting into him. Where had he come? What hell was this?

The dragon had no forearms, but his wings had claws on them, and he had a massive, barrel chest. A wave crashed into the ship, sending the deck nearly vertical. The dragon fell onto the deck, great claws tearing up huge chunks of wood. Hawke slipped, and in his fall knocked Fenris' legs out from beneath him. Fenris lost his grip on his sword and hit the railing on the side of the ship, and his world was all black.


	2. Waking Up in Skyrim

Pain. As Fenris found consciousness, pain pulsed from his core. His whole world was pain. Even breathing was agony. How long had it been? Years, centuries, he was sure. That's how long it took for him to get used to breathing without crying out. His throat burned, all of his muscles ached, his head throbbed. He was freezing, but dry. How was he dry?

The last thing he remembered was the storm - the ship rocking precariously, the wind and rain buffeting his face relentlessly. And the dragon. The_ dragon_. Oh, Maker of Thedas, he was _dead._

Fenris tried to open his eyes, and had to press them shut immediately. Wherever he was, it was daytime, and bright. He never expected the afterlife to look like this - he had never expected anything, in truth. But this felt so real - sights, sounds, smells, all of it. He could hear a fire cracking, birds singing, the snort of a horse. Shielding his eyes, with immense pain, he slowly tried adjusting to the light. He was laying on a bedroll, beside a campfire. Near him lay a few bags, satchels and sacks. He didn't recognize them.

"Hawke?" His voice came out hoarse and dry, too quiet to be heard. He was laying in the sun beside a low ridge, with pine trees and a frozen ground. The horse, a white and black creature like a cow, was thick with feathered hooves and a beard-like quality to the hair on its face. It was built for the cold.

Where_ was_ he?

Above the ridge, it looked as if there were mountains quite close to him, snow-capped and blinding in the sun. That was good. Where there were mountains with snow, there were also cold, clean streams for water. But he wouldn't need water in the afterlife, would he?

"Varric?" He tried to call out, pain coursing through him. Truly after death would not be so painful. He couldn't truly be alive, could he? He rolled laboriously onto his side and reached for the wineskin beside the fire, wondering who it belonged to. He unscrewed the top and sniffed it. It was odorless, so he took a sip. Water. Cold, fresh water. It could have been the Maker's own piss, and he would have drank it to mollify the burning in his through. He drank just enough to do so, though he wanted to drink it all. He'd need the water, he was sure, since he had no idea where he was or where he could go. How long would it take him to find one of the mountain rivers? He was never a skilled tracker, or a survivalist in the wild. He was better off in cities where he could steal, intimidate, and slip through the cracks.

"Merrill?" Maker forbid he was alone in the world with_ Merrill_, but now he'd be happy to see her.

He heard footsteps, light on the ground but crunching through dried leaves. He went silent and still, and looked around, but whoever it was, he couldn't see them. Then he saw a movement in the trees. Someone or something stalking towards him - with fur. Fenris cursed silently and tried to find his feet, gritting his teeth through the pain it took to stand. It was nearly blinding, but he managed to stay conscious.

Then he saw it. It was someone, wearing fur around their legs and a tight and sleeveless leather vest, with a single steel pauldron buckled around her chest to protect one shoulder. She was tan, slightly lighter than Fenris, with dirt stains on her exposed arms. Her hands were wrapped in leather with her fingers exposed, with boots of hide and fur on her calves. Striking hazel eyes peered at him as she stepped around into the open, wielding a bow with a notched arrow. She lowered her weapon, and Fenris put his hands out in front of him, as if it would stop her slow advance.

Her hair was long, black and braided back, unkempt, but it showed her ears. Pointed, like his own. A fellow elf, though she looked half-feral in her barbarian garb. She was nothing like the Dalish, the only wild elves he knew. She seemed harder, more rugged.

Fenris snarled at her, suddenly unsure of what he would be dealing with. "Don't come closer," he warned through gritted teeth, "I'll kill you." Honestly though, he felt weak to the core - exhausted and sick. Even his bones seemed to ache, his muscles trembled with the effort of holding him up.

The woman stopped, and now Fenris noticed the hare she had killed, strapped to her back. The sight of it almost made his mouth water. He was half-starving, and the only food he had had in months was salted fish (which he hated) and dried vegetables. Two axes hung on her hips, with intricate designs carved into them.

"Who are you?" She asked, keeping her bow lowered but ready. "Who do you work for?"

He was surprised she spoke his language, but her accent was interesting and unlike anything he had heard before. He had been at sea for months - he had not expected to land anywhere where someone spoke his language. He wished he had his sword with him, but he had lost it on the ship. _The ship_. Where was the ship? What happened to it?

"My name is Fenris. I don't work for anyone," he said, and he knew that in his condition, unarmed, he'd have to listen to her. But the woman didn't seem like she wanted to order him around or even kill him, though he couldn't be sure, of course.

"Where are you from, then?" She asked, not sounding so convinced.

Fenris swallowed. "Seheron." It would serve him to be vague, until he found out who she was.

"Where's that? Valenwood? Don't lie to me-" she threatened, raising her bow just slightly. The horse, behind her now, snorted, steam pouring from its snout.

"I've never heard of Valenwood," Fenris admitted, hands raised in surrender. Agony shot through him, and he was sure his leg was bleeding, but he didn't want to take the time to look down. He glanced around at what he could hurt her with so he could get away. How he'd be able to mount the horse, he wasn't sure. Besides, there were only rocks, but she'd be able to stick him with an arrow or an axe if he had to scoop something off the ground. "It's north of Tevinter. Before Par Vollen."

"What province are you from?" The woman elf demanded, sounding frustrated.

He was worried now. Was he really that far from home? "Where are we now? Is this Ferelden?" Ferelden was the only place he would imagine would get so cold.

The woman narrowed her hazel eyes at him. "We're near Solitude."

"Solitude?"

"Stop playing games with me," she hissed, raising her bow a bit more. Fenris growled, irritated and unwilling to show any fear.

"I've never heard of it before." He snapped, and then relaxed his arms because it hurt too much to hold them up. "I was on a ship, leaving Kirkwall. We left months ago, and just saw land for the first time since leaving Thedas. There was a storm... and a dragon."

The woman froze. "A dragon?"

He nodded. "It was huge, white and gray. I've killed dragons before, but this wasn't like them. This was bigger, and it didn't have four legs-"

"You've killed dragons?" She cocked her head. "Are you dragonborn?"

His legs were shaking with the effort it took to stand. He could hardly concentrate on the absurd question. "What?"

She didn't answer, instead she scanned the mountains. "Did you kill this one?"

"No. I was unconscious after it attacked our ship. Where did you find me?"

"On the beach, nearly drowning in the tide, during the storm. Someone had tied you onto a buoyant piece of wood. Lucky for you."

Fenris had to sit down. If it hurt so much to stand, he could only imagine what would happen if he tried to run away. "You didn't see anyone else? Where are my friends?"

She frowned. "No, I saw no one."

He settled on the bedroll and noticed that his leg was indeed bleeding.

"You had a nasty gash in your leg. A spoke of wood sticking out of it. I cleaned it, but it needs to be changed often." A chill wind swept up through the trees, and Fenris shivered. He was exhausted, though he had just woken up.

"When did you find me?"

"Four days ago."

He noticed a rock beside him, that he could probably whip at her from where he sat. It would hurt like hell, and if he missed she'd probably kill him. Perhaps he didn't need to try his luck just yet.

"Where am I?"

"North of Solitude. In Skyrim. You've really never heard of it?"

"You've never heard of any of the places I mentioned. Why would I know yours?"

She nodded. "I suppose you wouldn't."

"How about Orlais? Or the Anderfels? Rivain?"

"Nothing." The elf stood quickly and went to one of her satchels. He could probably grab her from where he was, he realized. Kill her. But she had answers, and he'd need them to find his friends. She unfolded a map, which was stained and wrinkled with age and use. On the map was a land area with a northern shore, and mountains painted into it. She put another map beside this one, which showed an island, with another, much smaller one beside it.

"Show me where you're from," she told him, kneeling in the frozen terrain.

Fenris looked at her hard before turning to stare at either map. He could read now, slowly, but it didn't matter in this case. He had seen enough maps in Thedas to know that this was not such a place. "What is this place?" He asked, pointing to the map which showed the islands.

The elf scoffed as if he was asking her what color the sky was. "Tamriel. This is _Tamriel_. Skyrim is here," she pointed to an area towards the northwest of Tamriel, and then put another finger on the other map, "Skyrim is a province of Tamriel. We're north of Solitude." She tapped her finger on the map of Skyrim, to a section of the northwest, the shore above a shield with a wolf's face, the sigil of the city.

Fenris sucked in a breath. He had seen enough maps to know that he was nowhere near Thedas - which just a few days ago he had suspected to be the only major landmass on his planet. "Er... I'm not..." Fenris dug his fingers into his thighs. "I'm not from here. Anywhere on here. I know what my maps look like, and this is nothing like them."

The elf sat back on her heels, narrowing her hazel eyes. "No?"

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "I'm from... over the sea, I suppose. I was sailing east... towards the sun, for months." He shoved the maps towards her, and her hazel eyes widened in brief shock at his outburst. He took in a ragged breath and tried to calm himself.

"What is the name of your Tamriel?"

He considered it for a moment, what she meant by that question. "Thedas." He scratched his chin. "I'm from Thedas."

The elf gathered up her maps and got to her feet, her furs looking exceptionally warm and soft. Fenris felt dizzy, nauseous. He leaned on an elbow, aimed away of the fire, and retched. It came out as a dry heave that left him gagging and gasping, sweating. He felt something being draped around his shoulders, and when he realized it was a wolf's fur, he wanted to laugh at the awful irony of it. He had never wanted to wear a wolf's fur. It felt like Danarius was getting what he had always wanted. But Danarius was dead, and the world a better place for it.

He turned to his elven captor and pulled the fur over him, wondering if his shoulder spikes would tear it. "Who did you think I worked for?"

The elf didn't look at him for a moment as she picked up some logs that she had apparently cut, placing them in the fire. He wasn't sure if she had heard him. After a few minutes, she murmured, "The Thalmor."

"The what?"

She frowned. "They're elven supremacists. They root out Talos worshipers persecute those that speak against them."

Fenris chuckled wryly. Was she mocking him? "Elven supremacists?" He had never heard of such a thing. In Thedas, elves were second-class citizens, if citizens at all. "In my home, Tevinter, elves are slaves."

He watched the woman carefully to measure the slightest reaction. And he got one. She furrowed her brow at him, perplexed. "Slaves?"

"You don't have them in Tamriel?" He asked bitterly.

"Well..." She shrugged, stoking the fire. "A long time ago, yes. And then in Morrowind there were until the Dunmer King Helseth brought it down. In Morrowind there were Dark Elves enslaving Argonians, Khajits and other elves mainly."

Elves enslaving elves? Fenris shut his eyes. Where in the bloody fade _was_ he, exactly? "Dark Elves?"

The elf rolled her eyes at him, and then smiled. "You've never seen -? Well, tell me. Are you a Wood Elf or a High Elf? It's hard to tell."

Fenris was irritated now. "I'm neither. I'm an elf."_ You fool._

"So am I," she replied. "But I'm a Wood Elf. My ancestors hail from Valenwood. You... you look more like a Wood Elf, but you're tall, like a High Elf."

Fenris shrugged and shot her an angry look. "I'm neither."

The woman ignored his stare and went to her horse, running her hand up its muzzle. She kissed the horse's nose and then glanced around.

"Who are you, anyway?" He asked, trying not to sound as angry as he felt. He'd go, try to find Hawke and everyone, but he was too injured to do so just yet.

"I'm Evelyna. Lena, if it's easier for you." she smiled, showing a set of white teeth with incisors that were less human-like than he had ever remembered. She did look wild, and for some reason that was more comforting than anything else.

"Well, Evelyna," Fenris began. "I want to find my companions. Can you point me in the direction of where you found me?

She nodded. "Directly north."

"Where is my sword?" Fenris asked, glancing around.

Evelyna knelt back down and began to skin the hare. "I didn't see a sword. It likely sunk."

She was probably right. Fenris sighed and reached for the wineskin. "May I drink this?"

Her hazel eyes seemed to dance from across the fire. "Of course. There's plenty more, if you're thirsty."

He finished the wineskin, feeling substantially better and no longer thirsty. The sun was setting behind the rim of the mountains, and the wind was suddenly colder than before. There was so much to say, but he didn't know where to begin. Evelyna skinned the rabbit and he only sat and watched, feeling useless and weak, weary beyond belief. His mind raced - where was Hawke? But his survival mode was grinding its gears, and Fenris realized he had to worry about himself. There was an elven woman who may or may not be holding him captive, and he had no weapon to his name.

"If I may," he began, "Why are you running from the Thalmor?"

"I never said I was," she grinned at him, and then stuck the hare on the spit and propped it up over the fire.

"No," he allowed, "but you seem to not want to cross paths with them."

"I won't, if I can help it." She cleaned her bloodied hands in a bowl and then dried them in front of the fire. "I broke into their embassy, and I was caught. They've been scouring the hills for the past week looking for me, so I've been hiding."

So she was a criminal. Fenris had half-expected it. He wondered if she took his gold from him too, not that it would buy him anything, here. "You broke into the embassy? Why?"

She narrowed her hazel eyes at him for a moment. "You want me to incriminate myself."

"I've done my share of crime," he explained. "I was only asking."

"I - well, someone I work with - thought that they had a part in the dragons coming back. I wanted information."

"Back? The dragons are coming_ back_?"

She nodded. "They never left where you live?"

"They're rare, but I don't think they have." Fenris took a breath. "What would these Thalmor have to do with this?"

"Nothing, I discovered," she answered, turning the hare over on the spit. "Absolutely nothing." She sounded disappointed.

Fenris studied her - arched eyebrows, sharp features, hazel eyes, pointed ears, long hair. Did all elves look like this here? Her movements were lithe and nimble, and he knew that she had only made noise when she had met him for his own benefit - so he wouldn't be caught off-guard by someone coming into the woods. Just how deadly could she be, he wondered?

The birds had quieted as the world darkened into shadow, twilight falling upon the foreign, cold land Fenris found himself in. In the distance he could hear the ocean slamming into the shore. His friends must be out there somewhere, if they were still alive. He wanted to shout out for them.

A twig must have snapped somewhere, because Evelyna was on her silent feet in the blink of an eye, slinking towards the trees with her bow readied, an arrow already notched onto it. He saw her figure dressed in furs and leather, seem to become one with the trees. The fire glinted dimly off her single pauldron, and he feared what lived in the woods, whatever was near them.

Time was excruciatingly slow. How long it had been, he wasn't sure, but it was full dark by the time she came back and the hare was finished cooking. He had already ripped a leg off of it to eat because his stomach was surely dissolving. Evelyna had brought nothing back and looked none for the worse.

"I'm sorry," he apologized as she came back, gesturing to the hare.

She chuckled softly. "I would be worried if you weren't starving by now. It's difficult to feed you when you're incoherent."

"Have I been awake at all these past few days?"

"Plenty," she replied before sawing off her own piece, and gesturing for him to help himself. Fenris took another leg and bit into it hungrily. "You weren't too bad, when you weren't trying to run off or kill me. You kept calling me _Merrill_."

He frowned. "Merrill? You look nothing - oh." He sighed and finished his bite of hare as Evelyna watched him expectantly. "She's an elf with black hair and green eyes. Still-"

"You were nearly dead with fever," she reassured him. "I understand."

"I apologize," he said anyway.

She shrugged and bit into her hare. "Was Merrill on the ship with you?"

Fenris swallowed and nodded. "A daft, naiive, stupid blood mage."

Evelyna seemed nonplussed. "Blood mage?"

Somewhere off, a wolf howled and Fenris felt his skin crawl at the sound, the hairs on the back of his neck standing upright. Evelyna seemed unbothered by it and her hazel eyes were focused on him. The stars were beginning to show, and he found some comfort in seeing the same constellations he had seen a thousand times at sea the past few months.

"Mages that tempt demons, become abominations, use their blood or the blood of others to become more powerful," he told her sharply, as if she should know.

Evelyna furrowed her arched brow and looked at the fire. "I've never... we have necromancers here, but they're rare and isolated."

"You don't have blood magic?" Fenris demanded. "Demons? Abominations?"

"None to all of that, I suppose. Well," she tilted her head to her shoulder and looked uncertainly at him, "there are mages that can conjur the dead, but it isn't bad - no one has to get hurt. And there are the Daedra, which... I can't even describe them. But even they aren't _bad_."

His head swam. He leaned his elbows on his knees and tried to keep from passing out. The fur Evelyna had given him slipped off and he heard another wolf howl in the distance. He'd never be able to sleep with all the howling, he vaguely thought.

"Necromancers... they raise the dead. They aren't good, but I don't know much about them."

"Do they make sacrifices?" Fenris asked.

"I don't think so."

This was too much. Could there really be a world without blood magic that he hadn't known? A world like this where slavery had been outlawed for generations? Fenris coughed and glanced at the stars before looking back at Evelyna. "How about the Fade?"

Her hazel eyes stared at him blankly.

"The dreamland, where the Maker made the mortal world."

It was clear to him that she had never heard of such a thing. "Er..." she managed. "No, I don't know what to tell you."

They finished eating in silence, and Evelyna brought what was leftover into the woods so the wolves wouldn't bother them. When she came back and washed her hands, she looked at him pointedly. "May I change the dressing on your wound?"

Fenris' muscles ached, and his leg throbbed where blood had leaked through the bandages. He had no choice but to accept her offer. It wouldn't be the first time someone had fixed him up. How many times had Anders healed him? Or the fog warriors, when they found him a thousand years ago in another world?

"Sure," he allowed, sitting stiffly and warily as Evelyna began to unwrap the bandage around his leg through the huge tear in his leggings. He was in dire need of new clothing. Everything he wore was stiff from the salt of the sea, smelt terrible, and was threadbare. As Evelyna pulled the bandage away he bit his cheek to keep from groaning at the pressure while she cleaned the wound.

Evelyna wiped at it with clean rags, washing it, and then hovered her hands over the wound. A light the color of fire seeped away from her palms and into his skin, and Fenris panicked. Instinct took over and he shoved her away, sending the poor elf sprawling nearly into the fire. She cursed and sprung to her knees, deadly and sharp axes drawn, reading to chop into him. Fenris threw his hands up, knowing he was no match for her. Maybe if he felt good and had his own blade with him. But unarmed, injured and achy, he was weak and vulnerable.

"I- forgive me," he said, though he wanted to scream at her, "please."

"Explain yourself," she hissed at him, that feral look to her scaring him now more than ever.

"I have... bad experiences with mages, I didn't expect you to use magic on me."

She threw up her arms, incredulous. The firelight glinted off the steel of the axes. "Of course I used magic on you, you should have seen your wound before. You'd be dead if I hadn't found you!" She seethed, keeping her voice down but cold.

He stared at her and said nothing, waiting for the volatile elf to compose herself. He knew he shouldn't have put his hands on her, but the magic here felt different, even looked different. In the moment he had panicked.

Evelyna strapped her axes back up to her hips and shot him a glare. "Now can I heal your damned wound or are you going to shove me into the fire again?"

Fenris looked away, shamed, and let her work on his leg again. The magic here was almost painful as her healing light knitted a bit of the wound back together. He gritted his teeth and watched carefully, and noticed a bead of sweat on her brow.

"I didn't know you could do magic," he said as she took a breath, a quick break.

"I can do a little. Most people can do a little. But I can't conjure up any atronachs or play with lightning."

"What can you do?" He asked as she began to work again, not bothering to stop and ask about atronachs. The wound was bleeding slightly less than it was, and the gash was growing smaller bit by bit. She then began wrapping his leg in cloth.

"I can do a little bit of healing, as you can see. But it drains me so quickly. I can also make fire from nothing, and detect life nearby."

"That must be useful for hunting."

"More than you know," she chuckled. "I used it on the beach, I know you were going to ask. But there was no one that I could see. No one except for you, tied up to some wood. Someone saved you during that storm."

He nodded as Evelyna fell back on her heels and sighed. "That's all I can do right now."

"It's fine," he said honestly. "I'm feeling a bit better. Thank you."

Evelyna smirked at him and then stood and washed her hands from his blood. A wolf howled again, farther off, but it sent him shivering even beside the warmth of the fire.

"We can look again, for your companions, when you're well," Evelyna wiped her brow on her leather glove that she pulled on her arm. "But... you'll be so lucky if we find anything. There are islands, little islands, and animals. Even if your friends swam away from the ship, I'm sure they couldn't see the shore in the middle of the storm.

Fenris realized the truth of it. The storm had been so awful, so strong, that there was no way any of them would have been able to swim from the ship. But he wanted to look anyway. Hawke wouldn't have left him behind.

"But you owe them something," Evelyna observed perceptively. "So we can go."

His green eyes flashed to her, and in him she seemed to pull out his thanks. She smiled, and he was glad he didn't have to say anything. Perhaps she wasn't as crazed and feral as he may have thought, but that must be the fever.

"After?" He asked her after a moment.

"After that," she began, glancing towards the snow-capped peaks, "I go to Riverwood."

Fenris looked at the fire. Evelyna spoke again, quieter. "If we have no luck up north, you can come with me."

"I couldn't," he told her firmly. He was alone, used to being alone.

She pressed her lips together, arched eyes watching him. "Skyrim is a raw, dangerous place, Fenris. It's wild."

And she was right, he knew, because another wolf cried out in longing for the moon, and he felt a shiver run up his curved spine. Could he truly turn away her outstretched hand? In this land he didn't know? Without a sense of direction or a weapon? A map? Clothes and a blanket? Tinder? No, he couldn't possibly survive here without help. Not until he found Hawke, Isabela, Merrill and Varric. The only four people that he had in the world.

"Very well," he sighed, "until I find them. Thank you."

She didn't smile, but she pulled a fur over her and laid down, staring at the stars. He could see them so clearly here, in such abundance, it was a beautiful sight. A wolf howled nearby, but she didn't move a muscle. Fenris felt weary and he ached all over. He laid down as well, and though he was exhausted, it was a time before he slept.


	3. Wolves, Mudcrabs and Cannibals - Oh My!

**Hello everyone, thanks for checking out my Crossover. I've been wanting to do this story since... maybe February of last year, when I discovered Dragon Age. Skyrim is my absolute favorite game, and has inspired me so much in my original stories. And I think that Fenris would love Skyrim.**

* * *

Dawn broke almost violently across the east, stretching its gnarled tendrils over the land of Skyrim. Fenris was turned away from the smoldering fire, awake and still aching all over, pain pulsing from his wounded leg. All night he had listened to the howling of the wolves, the mournful cry to the moon had penetrated his nightmares, disrupting every corner of his sleep.

_My little wolf._

Fenris snarled as _his_ voice drifted into his mind. He hated being equated with an animal, especially by that monster, that poor excuse for a human being.

But Danarius wasn't alive. Not in Thedas. And not here. People like him didn't exist here. That thought made Fenris pause, it made him nervous in a way that was almost happy. That's how he felt when he was going to meet his sister, before, of course, she betrayed him. Some kind of fluttering anxiety that one tried to keep hidden, keep from acknowledging.

But this was a different world. A cold world, with prowling wolves and beautiful dancing lights in the sky. He had only glimpsed them briefly, in the middle of the night when he woke up and saw the elf girl sleeping across from the fire, the hilt of an axe underneath her slack fingers.

Fenris started to stretch, and pain swam up from the wound in his leg. But the aching and soreness wasn't as terrible as yesterday. Fenris glanced at his side and saw Evelyna still sleeping. Her bow lay at her side, with a full quiver of feathered arrows. He didn't know how to shoot a bow, but he could steal it and head north to the beach, and look for his friends. He couldn't shoot it, but he could notch an arrow to the bow and threaten someone if need be.

But Evelyna stirred as he was pulling himself to sit. Her hazel eyes opened and she rubbed at them with her knuckles, yawning. Fenris saw his opportunity disappear. But it didn't matter anyway. He had to admit to himself that this native elf was his best chance at survival. He wouldn't be able to find his companions if she wasn't looking for them either. He couldn't hunt, never had been able to, and Maker forbid he was caught stealing in a town or city here. He didn't know the laws, or punishments he would face if he broke one.

"Good morning," Evelyna said as she got to her feet and strapped her axes to her hips. "How are you feeling?"

Fenris frowned. He needed to use the bathroom, and he wasn't sure how he'd do that. "I'm... better, I think." He began to struggle to his feet, and pain seared through him. He couldn't imagine walking anywhere.

Evelyna watched him curiously. He felt blood seeping from the wound on his leg, and could see it through the the tear in his leggings. He limped away from the small camp.

"I'll be right back," he muttered after Evelyna offered her help. He leaned on the pine trees when he was a safe distance away, pressing his temple to the cool bark of the trunk, trying to catch his breath.

The storm was five days ago. Five days ago his friends either died, or ended up here in this strange, frigid land. Fenris sighed and turned back around towards camp, limping slowly. Evelyna was rummaging through the sacks tied up to the horse. She glanced at Fenris as he lowered himself with a groan back onto his bedroll.

"You're doing much better, I see." She told him, hazel eyes glinting. "Walking."

He felt otherwise. Everything hurt. "How did you get me here?"

Evelyna patted her horse's shoulders and ran her slender fingers down its shaggy mane. "The hardest part was getting you on the horse. You're heavier than you look. And your spikes are... prickly."

Fenris snorted. He couldn't imagine the little elf woman lifting him up onto a horse whose back came up to her shoulders.

"Meanwhile," she added, a hint of playfulness in her voice, "you were either completely unconscious or trying to kill me. You even used some kind of magic."

"I'm no mage," he snarled, and her hazel eyes widened. "It wasn't magic."

She stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Alright, then."

He shouldn't be so ungrateful, he knew, but he was in pain and had no idea if his comrades were alive or dead. The elf woman seemed to know this, because she didn't say another thing to him until she strapped her bow and quiver to her back and stoked what remained burning of the fire.

"I'm going to go down to the beach, and try to look for one of your friends. You said one was an elf?"

He crossed his arms, leaning forward as he sat on the bedroll. He had pulled the wolf's fur over his shoulders again, because though the sun was shining, he was still cold.

"Yes," he said. "Her name is Merrill, she's an elf with green eyes and black hair. Then there's Hawke. He has a black beard and shaggy black hair. Isabela is tan, and will probably be wearing next to nothing. And Varric is a dwarf, who will likely be crying over his lost crossbow."

"A dwarf?" Evelyna cocked her head as she stood. "Like a Dwemer?"

Fenris furrowed his brow, confused. "I've never heard of that."

Evelyna looked out around her. "They were the Deep Elves. They lived underground until they disappeared."

"I haven't heard of them."

"Alright. I will be back, then." She stepped around the fire and held an axe out to him, hilt-first. "Here, for your protection."

He took it without a second thought. "Thank you," he murmured, turning the axe over and looking at it. It was steel, with intricate knotted carvings and a leather brand strapped around the hilt with rawhide strips tied around it. He ran his thumb across the blade. It was deadly sharp. He was lucky she hadn't used one to hurt him the night before when he shoved her.

Evelyna turned and moved towards her horse. Fenris watched her hoist herself onto the animal with surprising grace. He cleared his throat awkwardly, placing the axe down beside him.

"Er - can I look at the maps you have?" He asked, and Evelyna paused as she took the reins of the horse in her fingers.

"Of course. Look in that bag." She pointed to a satchel beside the fire, a few feet from Fenris. He nodded, running a hand through his snowy white hair.

"Thank you," he answered, and Evelyna gave him a warm nod before turning her horse. The feathered hooves clopped on the frozen ground as the horse walked away. Fenris waited until Evelyna was out of sight before he reached for her satchel.

He held the leather bag in his hands and unbuckled the satchel. Inside the satchel was a quill with a small inkwell, the folded maps and letters and notes, some stained with blood. Fenris glanced around, making sure that Evelyna was nowhere to be seen. He opened one letter and read:

_As instructed, you are to eliminate Evelyna by any means necessary. The Black Sacrament has been performed - somebody wants this poor fool dead._

_We've already received payment for the contract. Failure is not an option._

_- Astrid_

Fenris folded the letter back up quickly, not wanting to accidentally be caught reading it. If he had any doubt that this elf woman was a skilled fighter, this letter proved him wrong. There were people after her, and so far she was still alive, surviving in the wilderness by herself.

Fenris shoved the letter back into the satchel, and pulled the maps out. He unfolded the one of Tamriel, of the continent as a whole. He stared at this for some time, pausing on the southeastern corner of the land, at Valenwood, which is where Evelyna had thought he was from. And slavery... it took him a while to finally find Vvardenfell, a strange island in Morrowind. He remembered Evelyna saying that that was where slavery was still legal.

If they truly had been sailing northeast, then they had passed Valenwood. They had passed the entire western coastline of Tamriel. It seemed such a far distance to travel in the months he had spent at sea, though those days had always been so long and boring.

He moved on to the Skyrim map, taking a while to get his bearings. He ran his finger on the land just north of the wolf sigil of Solitude. He tried to pinpoint where he was, but all he knew were that the mountains were behind him and none were in front of him, which must mean that there would be the ocean ahead. Broken Oar Grotto was the most northern point of the peninsula, and Fenris wondered if that was where Evelyna was searching.

He gave up trying to pinpoint his own location, and noticed where the Thalmor Embassy was located, just northwest of Solitude, where Evelyna said that she had broken into. Then he moved on, finger roaming over the map. There were so many places he couldn't pronounce. Folgunthur, Ustengrav, Korvanjund.

He soon grew too weary to look at the map any longer. He settled beneath the fur that Evelyna had lent him, and fell asleep rather quickly in the daylight, when he didn't think the wolves were prowling the hills.

The steady clopping of the horse's hooves came into a dream he had. He was on the ship again, and the storm was brewing, churning the sea all around him. He saw the dragon on the deck, with hooves instead of its long, curled claws. The dragon didn't see him. Instead the dragon snapped the mast in half, throwing its shoulder against it and gnawing on the wood.

Hawke wielded his sword and shield, charging for the dragon. Isabela tried to move around behind it, Varric put some distance between them, aiming Bianca. Merrill sliced her wrists. The dragon didn't see anything. It was intent on destroying the ship. Its hoofed feet broke through the deck.

Fenris woke up quickly in a cold sweat. He opened his eyes, and saw that he had slept through most of the day. The sun was falling behind the mountains again, a chill wind blew through the pine forest, making the needles shiver on the limbs. Fenris rolled onto his back and lifted his head, still exhausted.

Evelyna didn't have anyone with her. A sinking feeling radiated in Fenris' gut. But then he noticed a shield strapped to her back that she hadn't had before, and a few sacks strapped up to the horse.

If she found some of Hawke's things, but didn't bring Hawke back, did that mean... "Is he dead?" Fenris asked, propping himself on his elbows.

Evelyna dismounted from the horse, shaking her head. "I couldn't find anyone. Only things. There were old footsteps leaving the beach, but the ground is frozen and the forest isn't thick enough to track them."

"How many sets?"

"Two together, one a bit further down the beach. But it's impossible to say if that's all there were. It's very rocky, they could have washed up on another beach, too."

He didn't want her pity, nor her false hope. Fenris sat up fully as Evelyna brought him some bags.

"I found some things. You may recognize... something." She gave him the bags. "There are a lot of shipwrecks on the shore, so it may not belong to your friends."

Fenris reached for the bags tentatively, afraid of what he would find. He dumped out its contents, and immediately noticed Merrill's light green scarf. It was torn and soaked, stinking of salt and the tide. Fenris told himself it didn't mean anything. That it didn't mean that Merril, Isabela, Varric and Hawke were dead.

Among the items were mainly things Fenris did not recognize. Tattered clothing that didn't belong to any of his friends, but maybe the few crew members Isabela was able to talk into going with them. Fenris saw three of Bianca's bolts, and he twirled them on his palms, wondering where Varric was.

"You recognize those?"

"They belong to Varric," he answered, sucking on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "And this is Merrill's. But that's all." Fenris looked up at Evelyna and waved to the shield. "That shield belongs to Hawke. Why wouldn't it sink?"

"You didn't sink," Evelyna pointed out. Then she knelt before the fire pit, and a warm energy sprouted from her fingertips, small flames catching the kindling that she had replaced that morning.

She sat back down on her bedroll as the fire began to catch, and she pulled her knees to her chest, dressed still in her furs and leathers and her single steel pauldron. He wondered how she wasn't half-frozen with most of her arms, a bit of her legs and some of her chest exposed. "But I do think I know where they went."

Fenris paused. "Where?"

"I think they went to Solitude," she told him. "You can see it from the shore, depending on where you are. From there it looks like a massive city atop a cliff."

Hawke was fearless. And perhaps Hawke didn't think that they were on a completely foreign land at all, so he certainly could have decided to go to the city.

"Will they be safe there?"

Evelyna's hazel eyes were piercing as she gazed at the fire and its dancing flames. "Solitude is the seat of the Empire in Skyrim. If your friends do not draw too much attention to themselves, they should be fine. You are lucky you did not get stranded near Windhelm."

He wrapped the crossbow bolts in Merrill's scarf, and glanced at the shield that had sailed across the sea from Thedas. Evelyna saw him looking at it, and she pushed a strand of black, wild hair behind her ear.

"Do you use a shield?" She asked him, leaning back on her palms and crossing her feet at the ankles. The fire grew to a size where Fenris could finally feel the tendrils of its heat. He shook his head.

"No, only a sword."

"Greatsword?"

"Yes."

Evelyna nodded, her lips pressed together tight. "I could try to find you one. Bandits live everywhere in Skyrim, and I'm sure one or two have some two-handed swords lying around for you."

Fenris snorted. Nothing could truly replace the sword that Hawke had given him. "Mine was a replica of the sword that the Archon used to kill the prophet Andraste as she burned at the stake."

Fenris watched Evelyna as her eyes glinted with interest. She picked up a dome-shaped thing beside her and leaned forward, placing the thing in front of her as she folded her legs. She took out an axe and rested the sharp part of the blade against the dome. She furrowed her brow and looked up at Fenris.

"I've never... well, obviously... I've never heard of Andraste. What is an Archon?"

Then she lifted the axe and brought it down onto the dome. Fenris startled, wondering what she was doing. The dome cracked with the impact of the axe, and Evelyna chopped into it a few more times, breaking what appeared to be a shell into several pieces.

Fenris cleared his throat, staring at what she was doing. "An Archon is the mage-ruler, the mage Emperor, if you will, of the Tevinter Imperium."

Evelyna glanced up at him. "Tevinter... it sounds... whimsical." She pulled apart the broken edges of the dome, revealing a fleshy inside. Fenris clenched his jaw.

"You are sorely wrong," he said, with a tone consisting of more ice than he meant. "It is a terrible place."

Evelyna pulled out a dagger and cut into the fleshy inside of the shell, cutting it into approximately equal sizes. Fenris realized the dome was in fact the shell of a crab. The largest crab he had ever seen. If crabs were so large here, what were the wolves like? Evelyna rammed the chunks of the crab onto the same stick that the hare cooked on the night before.

Fenris was in no position to refuse food even if he did hate seafood. It was food that she caught, and the only food they'd have for the day. Since she was the only reason he was even alive, he couldn't be rude.

Evelyna frowned. "Is Tevinter where Seheron is?"

She remembered that that was where he was from? "No," he answered, and then hesitated, "it's an island near Tevinter."

"War?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are they at war?"

"Yes." He narrowed his eyes at her, feeling suspicious. Evelyna noticed this.

"You said before that you were from Seheron. If you hate the lands near it... it usually hints that there is a lot of tension between the two. Usually, war."

"You're perceptive," he allowed, curling his long fingers in the wolf's fur. He had never imagined it would feel so soft. "But you're wrong," he nearly growled.

"I am?"

"I was a slave in Tevinter," he admitted, and he saw Evelyna's mouth open in disbelief before she quickly gained her composure. Hazel eyes met his across the fire, and his lip curled, feeling dirty, as admitting that he was a slave always made him feel.

"You're a slave no longer," she said. That much was obvious, but he felt as though he had to explain a bit more.

"I escaped my master... in Seheron. It is a long story."

Evelyna smirked at him, but it wasn't mocking, if such a thing were possible. "We seem to have all night."

Fenris didn't respond, and then Evelyna had a suggestion for him. "You can explain while I try my hand at your leg again."

Fenris pulled his fur up so that she would have access to it, wrapping it around his shoulders. He could see his breath steaming in the air, wafting up towards the sky. A dim green light began to form slowly up between the stars, beginning to imitate the shape of a snake.

Evelyna went to him and crossed her legs as she pushed away the the fabric of his leggings from the wound. Whatever had pierced his flesh had torn his clothing, so he could see the gash in his leg, and it bled out freely if it weren't healing already.

"So..." she began, looking at the wound. He noticed her wrinkle her nose at it and he feared it was getting infected, "you're from Seheron... but you were a slave in Tevinter. Since these places are different... how did that come to be?"

She spread her fingers above the wound. He looked up at the sky, waiting for the pain. "I... I lost all of my memory when I became a slave. My master took them from me. But I was told that I had competed for my mother and sister's freedom, and won." He felt the skin stretching, the magic seeping into his gash, and he grit his teeth against the pain.

"That's very noble of you," she said, "to do that for your family."

"Hmm," Fenris snorted. "I don't even know my mother's name now."

Evelyna was focused on his wound, the warm magic pulling the gap in his wound together. "Well, you clearly loved her enough to compete for her."

He didn't want to talk about himself and these demons that haunted him every night. He gripped the wolf fur tightly and bit out, "Where's your family?"

Evelyna's magic sputtered for a brief moment before continuing. Her jaw was set, eyes drawn in concentration. "They've gone back towards Valenwood, but they plan on settling in Cyrodiil. Skyrim is too dangerous with the Civil War, and the dragons coming back."

He knew nothing of a civil war, but he figured he would learn soon enough. "Is that where you're from? Valenwood?" He remembered that that's where the Wood Elves came from, the elves that looked like her. He knew that there were Dark Elves as well, and High Elves, and the Dwemer which she referred to as the Deep Elves. How many more types of elves were there, he wondered?

"No, I was born in this land," she said with clear pride in her voice, her magic dimming to an end, going out like a dying candle. She was out of breath, so she caught it and took a sip of water. Fenris looked at his wound, and saw that it looked substantially better. It was still not closed, but he assumed by the time she regained her mana that it would be. "I was born outside of Whiterun, where the forest met the plains. But it still does not keep me from being discriminated against," she glanced at him briefly before moving to sit back in her spot on the other side of the fire.

"What do you mean?" He dared to ask.

"Elves are... looked down upon here," she explained, still a bit breathless. "Skyrim is a land of very proud Nords, who can trace their ancestors far, far back. I was born here, but my grandparents were immigrants, and never accepted."

Ah, and there it was. A land without blood magic, without magisters and slavery had all seemed too idyllic to him. There was no way it could have been so perfect, ever. But something of a quiet... calm swelled in him briefly. It made him more comfortable, if anything. A place as she had originally described it was too far from what he was used to. It made it easier to believe that he was still alive, and not experiencing the afterlife.

"Granted, though, they aren't too terrible. Only nasty when they talk to you, and most of them just ignore that you're an elf. At least, that's how it is out here in the western part of Skyrim, where the Empire has some influence."

"And east...?"

"East are the Stormcloaks. They are fighting for Skyrim to be a sovereign land, and the Empire wants to absorb it."

Fenris nodded, committing this all to memory. "And who do you fight for?"

Evelyna's hazel eyes glinted, and she pushed one lock of hair behind a pointed ear. "I fight for myself." Her voice was almost solemn, almost defiant.

Fenris understood. He had always been a "lone wolf" even in the company of his companions, and while he had a stance in Thedas, against the mages, the rules didn't apply here. Here, he was alone again in purpose, in a cause. He fought for no one here, at least not yet.

"The Empire," she began after a moment, and he hadn't been expecting her to talk, "caught me traveling with a group of Stormcloaks near the border. They tried to kill me, though I wasn't a traitor to them. My head was on the chopping block, my cheek in another man's blood... and _just_ before the axe was coming down, a dragon attacked Helgen." Her voice was eerie, haunted, and Fenris listened completely enraptured. "The dragon leveled the city, and I fled with a Stormcloak, with my life. Skyrim should be its own nation, absolutely. But under Ulfric Stormcloak's rule? I couldn't say."

Fenris watched the dancing flames, the glow of them on Evelyna's dirtied and tanned face. She seemed to realize where she was, and she looked up at him and grinned, showing her feral-like incisors. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically, smiling, "to you it must just be a lot of foreign names that mean nothing."

"Can they truly be that different?" He mused, somewhat scowling, but not at her. "Our lands seem to be suffering from the same things... only the names are different."

Evelyna smiled. "You're right."

Fenris took a breath, and still had the chills from the things she had said about herself. "Why were you traveling with the... what were they, Stormswords?"

"Sword-" she shook her head, "Stormcloaks. You're making me mispronounce them now. The Stormcloaks." She curled her lip. "I was ready to leave. Like I said, my parents already left Skyrim. I didn't want to stay because the Civil War was escalating, and now it isn't exactly safe to travel the countryside anymore if you're on a side. So I traveled with a group when they found me, pledging my allegiance to them. Then we were caught, and I owe them nothing."

Fenris thought about this. She reminded him of Hawke in a way; both from cold, almost barbarian lands it seemed, with a reason to leave more important than any reason to stay.

"No siblings?" He asked.

Evelyna chuckled. "A few here and there." She smirked at him then, seeing that it wasn't exactly a sufficient answer. "I have two older brothers. One joined the Stormcloaks, one... well, I don't know where he is."

"Why don't you go back to Valenwood? Or Cyri... wherever your parents went?"

She smiled. "Valenwood is a strange, place, Fenris. The elves there are cannibals. And besides, Skyrim is my home. When the dragon attacked, a strange turn of events happened, and now I think it's right for me to stay."

He nodded. Evelyna began to turn the crab on the spit above the fire. Fenris noticed her glancing at his markings on his arms.

Irritated, he growled, "See anything interesting?"

She met his eyes coldly, and when she spoke she sounded almost as irritated. "I am only wondering if all elves in Thedas have tattoos like that."

"They aren't tattoos," he bit out, jaw clenched. "This is a mineral called lyrium that my former master burned into my flesh. The excruciating pain of the process erased my memories, all of them."

Sometimes he thought it was interesting to see people squirm when he told them about his markings. Once, long ago, he would be quiet about his markings, ashamed of them. He would have tried to hide them long ago. But he had given that up long ago, no longer feeling any need or desire to spare people the embarrassment they felt when he told them. He didn't hide from them anymore.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she said, losing any bitterness in her voice. Fenris tried to remind himself that she was the only reason he was alive. "That's awful. I can't imagine anything like that."

He snorted, wanting to say so many things._ You're a fool. You're a barbaric, elven fool woman._ But he'd be dead if it weren't for her. "They have served me well over the years."

Evelyna nodded, clearly at a loss for what to say. She opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it. Fenris rolled his eyes.

"What is it?"

She ran a hand over her messy braid before stopping to untie the leather strap at the end of it. "Is that... are your markings what made you turn... blue, before? You glowed."

"Yes," he answered, green eyes planted firmly on hers. "You're lucky to be alive, if I did that." He said, and he noticed Evelyna's elven lip curl in a half-scowl. "But so am I, I understand."

Her scowl trickled away. "You are, you're very lucky."

"If you thought I was the... what were they, the Thalmor?" She nodded. "If you thought I was one of them, and those are the elves that want to find you, then why would you stop and save me?"

She chuckled. "I thought perhaps I could interrogate you. Of course, now I don't know what to do with you. And your story is just so far-fetched that I might even believe it."

"Oh, is it?" Fenris scoffed. "Well, if you don't plan on still interrogating me... I am in your debt."

She grinned, and he saw her incisors gleaming in the firelight. She truly was a wild thing, a creature of the wilderness unlike anyone he had met. Her black hair fell unruly past her shoulders, and she attempted a new, fresh braid.

"If you feel up to travel in the morning... would you like to head to the beach or go into the city to see if we can find your friends? The longer we wait, the harder it will be to find them."

The thought of going into the city made him incredibly uneasy, but he'd have to do it eventually. "You're sure there's no more evidence of them on the beach?"

She shrugged. "Shipwrecks are common there. There are several islands that you don't see in a storm, and the coast is rocky and dangerous. But I saw what washed up on the beach. You were the only body. When I found you... I didn't look for any others, I helped you onto my horse and brought you into the forest. I didn't want the Thalmor to see me. It took me two days to go looking on the beach again, because I had to stay and try to keep you alive. But whoever had washed up on the beach was already gone."

"How is it safe for you to go into the city, with so many people looking for you?"

She grinned. "The Thalmor have no power in Solitude. They're essentially an interest group, but with no true authority. Out here, they're nicely armed elven bandits. In the city, they'll have to play along with the common folk. We'll be fine."

He pulled his wolf's fur tight around his shoulders, fingers curling into the soft material. "Very well, then. We can go into Solitude."

She nodded, and then took the spit away from the fire. "Alright, then." She said, and held the spit out to Fenris for him to take his pick. "I hope you like Mudcrab."

He didn't, he was sure. He had actually never had crab before, that he could remember, but he was sure all seafood tasted the same. He gave her a forced smile and took a chunk of the meat in his hand. Evelyna took her own piece and as she took a bite, she threw her head back and looked up at the sky.

Fenris looked up as well, and saw the green lights that he had glimpsed the night before. The lights danced high in the sky, among the moons and the thousands of stars, more than he had ever seen in Thedas. This was a darker land, a colder land, and there was more natural beauty here, at least in the cosmos.

"I've never seen anything like this," he said with wonder, eyes watching the ribbons of light shimmer and dance as if a high breeze made them flap. He noticed them of other colors too, in each direction. Purples, yellows, blues all beautiful and dancing, swimming far up in the sky.

Evelyna hummed while she ate, watching the dancing lights. "That's the aurora," she told him when she finished chewing, leaning back on her elbows. "Do you like it?"

"I'm in a place without slavery, without blood magic, abominations, demons, magisters..."

"And the sky dances?" She suggested.

"And the sky dances."

* * *

**Thank you to those who have reviewed so far - it's so nice to see you both back! =D**

**And those who are new to me, welcome. There are so many little notes I want to put here, but I'll refrain from it. If you have any questions, please ask. I'm trying to keep this as in line with the lore/canon of both worlds. **

**I needed a break from Fenris & Astoria, I think. I've had such a desire to write this story, that I will still be working on A Tevinter Sacrifice, but not as much as this.**


	4. A Wolf Among Wolves

**_Hello again! I think people like this story more than I originally thought it would be received. _**

* * *

_"I am the Queen of Solitude, daughter of the Emperor! Summon the daedra! I'll trade the soul of every last subject of mine for a little comfort." _

_- Queen Potema (__The Wolf Queen__) 3E 97_

* * *

Fenris had broken out in a sweat by the time he was on top of Evelyna's paint-colored horse. The animal was massive for a horse, with legs like tree trunks and a great barrel chest. Its mane was long and white, and steam rose from its nostrils.

He had needed substantial help from Evelyna to get onto the damned animal, with his wounded leg. Evelyna had tried her hand at healing it, but the wound still had yet to be fully closed, and it did hurt less than it had. But he was beginning to wonder if the soreness in his body would ever go away, the aching that he felt deep in his bones.

It was a conscious effort to remain upright in the saddle, which wasn't like a saddle from Thedas, but it was more of just furs and leathers to sit on. At least it had stirrups.

Fenris wasn't an experienced or skilled horseman, but Evelyna led the horse by the reins since she was the only one out of the two of them that could efficiently walk. She led the horse out of their camp and down a slope that Fenris had thought the horse would slip down. His heart pounded and his leg throbbed, and his knuckles were bone-white as he gripped the makeshift saddle.

"What month is it?" Fenris asked, surprised he hadn't thought of it earlier.

Evelyna glanced over her steel-pauldroned shoulder at him, her axes thudding lightly against the furs on her hips. "It's the First Seed. The Third month."

"Oh." Another thing he'd have to learn if he stayed here, the calendar. So he had been at sea for over five months.

"How could I travel so far in five months?" He wondered, making a fist in the horse's mane as it walked so he wouldn't lose his sense of balance. "Wouldn't someone else have discovered Thedas from here, or likewise?"

Evelyna stepped quietly ahead, still with the horse's reins in her slender, leather gloved hands. "Well... the ocean current travels north along the western coast of Tamriel. You must have been caught in it, too far out at sea to see the land. And it turns east once the western coast ends. So you were caught in the current and traveled with it. The storm was nasty timing. And the dragon... well, welcome to Skyrim."

"You said they're coming_ back_?"

"Yes. The one that attacked when I was supposed to be executed was the first one. Since then I've seen roughly ten, I think more."

Fenris gaped at her for a brief moment. That was more than he had seen. "How many have you killed?"

She smirked. "Not enough, unfortunately. About seven."

He remembered that letter, the letter that ordered someone to murder Evelyna. What exactly could she do, if she had killed so many dragons and evaded assassins? Who exactly was she?

Then Evelyna froze, muttering something quietly to her horse as she splayed her fingers on its snout and looked around, intense eyes gazing at the land around them. Fenris saw the city that was Solitude, perched high on a massive arch of black cliff sides. The city looked absolutely ominous from its rocky nest, walled on all sides by a great stone facade. Leading up to the city itself wound a steep road of cobbled stones, weaving in and between the pine forest.

The horse stopped, snorting, and Fenris watched Evelyna as even her elven ears twitched. Then she said something, and though it was a whisper, it rumbled in his chest. "_Laas yah nir_."

She turned around, eyes searching for something. Though Fenris tried to follow her gaze and see what she saw, she was seeing beyond, somehow. Somewhere to the northwest, she saw something, something that Fenris couldn't see nor hear.

She blinked once, twice, and then turned to look at Fenris with determination twinkling in her hazel, narrowed eyes. "Fenris," she began, sounding worried, "we need to share the horse."

It was her horse anyway. He scooted himself backwards without a word, trying to keep from panicking. Evelyna smiled. "Thank you," she told him, and in one swift movement of grace, she threw herself onto the horse's back, just in front of Fenris. "You'll have to hold on, we'll be going fast. I'm sorry, but your leg will hurt."

He swallowed nervously. Did that mean he had to hold onto her? Mildly irritated, he put a hand on the curve of her waist, and the horse took off, nearly throwing him to the road. Fenris wrapped both of his arms around her waist in a blind panic, his legs gripping the horse's sides as tight as he could manage. Her black, wild hair was pressed against his cheek, the scent of pine and sap in it. But all he cared about was not falling off and taking a massive hoof to the face.

"Why are we running?" He asked after several minutes, when the horse was noticeably struggling to continue running.

"The Thalmor," she answered, "I saw them."

"I didn't see anything. What did you say, back there, anyway?"

She chuckled. "Well, you glow blue, and I can speak the dragon language. We both have our _abilities_."

He tried to ignore the pain in his leg, pulsing violently from his thigh. The frigid air seemed to spill over the mountaintops, spraying a frozen mist in their faces sporadically as the wind kicked up. A mass of thick, gray clouds were looming from the north, but the sun was shining pale and warm on the spring morning.

The horse slowed to a trot and Fenris loosened his arms around her waist, still hoping that he wouldn't fall off. "I did not mean to do that," he said, referring to her markings.

She laughed now, but still kept her voice down. "You've never done that before?"

He clenched his jaw, curling his fists in the makeshift saddle while the horse's chest heaved as it caught its breath. They were at the crest of the sloping hill, almost level with the city of Solitude, it seemed.

"It's my markings," he answered, "I don't completely understand them, but they have served me well."

She nodded, patting the horse thankfully. "Well, I can't say I wasn't surprised. What do they let you do?"

"Gruesome things," he answered, not wanting to show her just yet. He wasn't comfortable with this barbarian, this descendant of cannibalistic elves. No matter how kind she appeared, he knew there was more to her. She was a criminal, and he'd have to watch himself with her. Just as she'd be smart to watch herself with him.

"Fair enough."

"And that thing you did. Was that a spell?"

She shook her head. "I can't... I can't describe it, actually. It isn't magic. It's... well, maybe it is. But keep it quiet, we're almost there."

It was already the middle of the afternoon when Fenris saw the gates before him as the horse stepped through a thicket of pine trees. Banners of red, white and black hung on either side of the main gate; portraying a wolf's face, solemn and wild. No matter where he went, he couldn't get away from his namesake.

Fenris saw the guards as well, and the wolves on their wooden shields, their mail glinting in the morning sunlight. Evelyna smiled over her shoulder at Fenris and then chuckled. "There's nothing to worry about. Of all the cities, you should be glad that Solitude is the one here."

She dropped him off just outside of the gates, and then brought the horse to the stables. He waited, sitting on a stump of a chopped down pine tree. A chilled breeze whistled up from the bay he could see. Tall ships bobbed in the harbor, bells ringing and gulls crying. Isabela would be drawn to the harbor. He wondered if he should look there for her.

But Fenris watched the guards above all else. They laughed and talked with each other, all with wiry muscles and dirt stains on their arms. One of them had long flaxen hair with two small blades poking out from beneath his iron helm. He was no stranger to traveling to new cultures. On the run from Danarius, he would always watch the people in every town to see how things operated. You could learn much from a city by going to a tavern, or stepping through its marketplace.

He was skilled at adapting to these different cultures. All the new places he had gone to - from Seheron to Nevarra to the Free Marches, he had always managed to somehow remain at least somewhat discreet. Of course, a man covered in lyrium markings could only fade into the background so much, but he made it seem a bit easier than it was.

A guard stepped out of the gates, from inside the city. A sword hung on one hip while he had his wolf shield on his left arm. His footsteps were loud as he began walking towards the stables, where Evelyna had gone.

"Stay out of trouble, Elf," the man said to Fenris, who had only been sitting quietly on the stump. He narrowed his eyes at the man, but nothing more. He was unarmed, and in too much pain to do anything. Besides, he didn't know what would happen if he did react.

The guard kept moving, though, and Fenris watched a group of travelers on the road moving towards Solitude. Three of them to be exact, all wrapped in cloth instead of armor. They had tails, he realized, flicking and swaying like a cat's. He focused on them. As they approached, he saw their feline faces; cat's eyes with wide, flat noses, whiskers rubbing against the cloth that hung around their heads.

Fenris stared. He had never seen anything like them. They were covered in fur of different colors; the one in the front gray with black stripes, the one behind it orange, the one behind that one a pale silver. None of them paid him any mind as they passed, but he couldn't keep from staring even as they went by and into the city.

He had hallucinated that, he was sure. That was about the time that Evelyna came jogging up the hill, the axes on her hips swinging, her bow bouncing on her back. Fenris wondered how many other weapons she had hidden away. Hawke's shield was strapped to Fenris' back. It was heavy, and after months of not carrying his sword on his back, he realized he had a lot to get used to before he'd be back to his usual self. He couldn't believe how weak the ship had made him, and the wreck.

"Ah, you're still here," Evelyna chuckled, slowing her steps.

"I saw," Fenris began, pushing himself to his feet, "I saw someone that looked like a cat. Three of them, actually."

She didn't look surprised at all. "The Khajit."

He had to shift his weight with a slight groan. "The Khajit?"

"Yes. You'll see quite a few."

"I've never... we don't have them."

"No?" She chuckled and began to walk, very slowly while Fenris limped along beside her. "What do you have, then?"

"Elves," he said, "humans and dwarves."

She arched an angled eyebrow at him, her sharp features turning her face into a grin. "That's all?" The guards let them through the gates, the heavy doors swinging open with a loud, low creaking.

"Well, what do you have?" He asked, bewildered. He shifted his green gaze to the city before him, now that he was inside. Cobbled streets spread out wide before him, with flags hanging between the stone buildings that stood tall upon the cliffs. Far ahead was a castle of some sort with several red and white wolf banners hanging on its walls.

"Come with me," she said softly, pointing to the first building on the left side, with a sign swaying slightly in the breeze. On the sign was a rat above the words _"The Winking Skeever_."

"What's this?" Fenris asked.

_"The Winking Skeever_." She replied smartly. "It's a tavern. If your friends came to Solitude, they probably came here."

She pushed open the door and allowed Fenris in first. He sucked in a breath and stepped in, uncertain.

The tavern was warm, and he felt the heat of it right away. it was such a change from the chill outside. The tavern was lit brightly by candles in every corner, on every table. He could hear the crackling of a hearth somewhere in the tavern, which was split up into rooms by large stone archways instead of walls.

In the foyer, though, the first thing Fenris saw was the wolf's head. Almost directly across from the door, an animal with black fur and its teeth bared, stared lifelessly at him. Above his head to the left was a different animal's head, almost like a bear or a cat, with massive fangs jutting out below its jaw. Across from that was a strange animal, another one he had never seen, with three tusks and huge yellow whiskers.

He followed behind Evelyna as she walked straight ahead, over a blue and yellow rug on the stone floor. Fenris noticed another khajit, and something else he had never seen. The creature looked like a reptile, and it stared at him with yellow, beady eyes.

Fenris knew better than to ask Evelyna what it was in front of it, though. So he followed behind, limping, as she stopped at the bar. At the bar he stood under the head of a deer, and when he looked to his right he saw a bear's head mounted, snarling at him. And he saw the hearth as well, burning hot near a table where two men sat drinking out of tall tankards, both wearing armor of fur and leather and a bit of steel.

Oh yes, if Hawke came to Solitude, he would have stopped here.

"Hey there, lass. I have a room if you're looking for one."

"I'm looking for two, in fact," she answered, and Fenris was eternally grateful, but he had no money to give her.

"Very well. It's twenty gold."

"And I'd like two meals, a mug of mead, and for you?" She turned, smiling.

"A glass of wine, please," he answered with a curt nod, green eyes still looking over the cozy but large tavern. It was nothing like The Hanged Man, not as grimy or dark, which was surprising to him.

"Get him a bottle, instead," Evelyna said with a smile.

"What do you want to eat? Today we have venison or seared slaughterfish. Also of course, potatoes, honey nut treats, potatoes, bread, goat cheese."

"The venison would be a nice change. With the potatoes, bread and cheese. How about you?" She glanced at Fenris, who only nodded at the barkeep.

"It's another nine gold for all of that," the barkeep added, glancing at Fenris' markings.

Evelyna laid out the coin on the table. "We have a question for you, though, Corpulus. You ask, you know what they look like." Evelyna took a step away and Fenris felt his knees trembling with the effort it was taking him to stand, but he was doing better, still.

"Have you seen any travelers this past week that seem out of place. I'm looking for a very short man, blond. A woman with tan skin. Very, er, curvy. An elf with black hair and green eyes, with black tattoos. A man with a black beard and blue eyes."

The barkeep, Corpulus, moved to pour Fenris a glass of wine and give Evelyna a bottle of mead. As he put the glasses down on the wooden bar top, his eyes flickered between Fenris' markings and his eyes.

"There was a tall man like the one you just described, looking for someone like you. An elf, he said, with white hair and white tattoos." Fenris clenched his teeth. "He didn't rent a room or anything, though. He asked if there was any work at the docks, or if there was any information about a shipwreck. I didn't get a name."

"Was he looking for anyone else?"

"I think so, but I couldn't say. I forgot. This was three days ago, maybe two."

Fenris couldn't believe it. Hawke had been here, and looking for him.

"You don't know where he went? Where he was staying?"

"No," Corpulus answered firmly. "That's it. I already gave my official statement to the Thalmor anyway."

"What do you mean?" Evelyna cut in, curious.

"You're not with the Thalmor? What am I saying, of course you aren't." He made a motion to Evelyna's barbaric armor. "The Thalmor were in here yesterday, looking for someone they think was a spy at their embassy. I said I haven't seen anyone. I get travelers here all the time. All I told them was that there was another guy in here, looking for an elf. Then they left."

Evelyna, to her good grace, did not seem suspicious as she took a casual sip of her mead and chuckled. "Those Thalmor think it's always all about them, don't they?"

The barkeep chuckled uneasily, and Fenris thought he could feel a bit of racial tension. The Thalmor, he remembered, were elven supremacists seeking control of Skyrim, according to Evelyna. "You're right," the barkeep muttered, half to himself. "Let me put your order in to the cook and I'll grab your keys."

Evelyna met eyes with Fenris as he hobbled onto the barstool, shaking. He took a sip of his wine, unimpressed with the taste, and placed the glass down with exaggerated care. "The Thalmor are after my friends."_ Because of you._

"We'll find your friends." She said, at least sounding sincere, but Fenris had difficulty believing it. "Think about it. They don't have any money, at least not for here," she spoke quietly, so that the lizard-man a few bar stools away couldn't hear her, "they can't afford a room here. They're likely sleeping outside. You're not in any shape to walk around the city, but I can. I'll go out tonight."

Fenris frowned, but he couldn't say anything because the barkeep was coming back, jingling two keys in his hands. "Here are your keys, where will you be sitting?"

"Up on the loft," Evelyna answered quickly, and though Fenris didn't know what she was talking about, Corpulus did.

"Very well, we'll bring your food up when it's cooked."

She smiled and waited for Fenris to take his bottle and glass of wine before pushing himself laboriously off of the stool. He followed Evelyna past the burning hearth and up two flights of stairs, which hurt him to walk up but he was even impressed with himself for not fainting from the effort. Evelyna showed him a small table for two with several burning candles standing against a balcony of sorts, looking over a couple rooms of the tavern. An iron, round chandelier burned at knee level, hanging out a few feet away from the railing. Fenris lowered himself into one of the chairs and leaned over the railing, looking down at some of the patrons below.

Evelyna took a sip of her mead and pushed a key forward to Fenris. He took it and turned the iron thing over in his fingers, glancing around.

"It's for these two rooms," she pointed behind him, and he saw two doors beside each other.

"Oh," he breathed, realizing he was sweating with the effort of getting up the stairs. He still had so much recovering to do. "Now..." he looked at Evelyna, not knowing where to begin, "what would the Thalmor do to my friends?"

She took a breath, also unsure. "I... I don't know. They aren't looking for your friends, though. They saw me. They're looking for me."

"How well did they see you?"

"Not too well. I was disguised, and my hair was tied up. But they know they're looking for a black-haired wood elf. They didn't pay much attention to me, and those that really saw me, I killed."

Fenris scoffed. She really was dangerous, but he was the same way. When he could kill those that were chasing him, he did. When he couldn't, he ran. "They might mistake Merrill for you."

She set her jaw, clearly uncomfortable. "I... I don't know what to say."

He frowned and took another sip of his wine, trying to make himself relax. "My apologies. I don't mean to sound so ungrateful. I know that you're the only reason I'm alive."

She leaned back in her chair, shifting her gaze to the rest of the tavern below. "I can't stay here forever," she told him. "I'll help you for a few more days, but I was supposed to be in Riverwood already."

He hadn't stopped to think about her purpose once, what she was doing out in the wild. Of course she hadn't wanted to stay in that area, not with the Thalmor chasing her and searching for her all in the mountains. He couldn't imagine why she had stayed so long to begin with, being the fugitive she was.

"I understand," he said quietly, and an awkward silence passed between them. Down below, a blond woman dressed in leathers laughed at a joke someone said, and her voice rang out like a crystal bell. Fenris noticed the lute beside her before he looked at Evelyna again. "I'm sorry to burden you so. I... I've traveled with these people for years."

Her hazel eyes met his over the steel rim of her tankard as she drank her mead, hair almost shining in the candlelight. She was beautiful in a feral, wild way, he thought before deciding he was delirious and hungry. "You are no burden," he knew it was a lie, but she said it anyway, "though you are when you try to kill me."

His jaw clenched involuntarily, and she chuckled. "I'm only jesting. That reminds me, let me see your leg. I think I have enough magicka that I can finish the job."

"Magicka?" He asked as Evelyna got up from across him, and knelt beside him. She pulled the stiff leggings away at the tear as she contemplated the wound. "It's doing much better." She put her hands just above the wound, and Fenris wrapped his hands around the green bottle of wine, half wrapped in wicker. He gritted his teeth as the skin pulled together, the muscles knitting back to where they should be. After a minute, Evelyna rocked back on her heels and stood, tan cheeks flushed.

Fenris looked at his leg and saw that it was finally closed shut after days of being worked on. He felt his lips curling into a small smile and he nodded to Evelyna. "You have my thanks," he told her.

She smirked and took another sip of her mead at the table. Fenris pointed to the lizard-man at the bar. "What do you call that?" He asked, green eyes glittering in the bright candlelight of the tavern.

"That's an Argonian," she grinned. "They're from Black Marsh."

He looked at her blankly, and she pulled out her map to show him. "And the Khajits are from the desert province of Elsweyr."

"The Wood Elves are from Valenwood," he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else, trying to remember.

"Yes. The Dark Elves are from Morrowind," she pointed, and she showed him where several other races were from, though he couldn't keep track of them. By the time she finished, he had forgotten most of the races, aside from the Nords, Argonians, Khajits and Wood Elves. Oh, and the Dark Elves that enslaved their own kind.

Down below the blond woman with the lute began to sing, and Fenris found himself listening to the words as the barkeep put down their plates of food before him. He ate shamelessly, feeling half-starved, and listened. Varric had said once that you could learn much about a culture by listening to their songs.

_"Our Hero, our Hero, claims a warrior's heart_

_I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes_

_With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art_

_Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes,"_

Evelyna watched over the railing as the bard sang, strumming her lute. Fenris watched Evelyna's expression; her hazel eyes wide and almost embarrassed.

_"It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes_

_Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes_

_For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows_

_You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn's come."_

The song ended, and the patrons of the tavern clapped, some handing coins to the blond bard. Fenris took a sip of his wine to wash down the cheese and bread, and then he cleared his throat.

"What's the Dragonborn?"

He noticed a blush spreading from her neck to her cheeks. "It's someone that can speak the dragon language, and not only speak it, but... use it."

Fenris bit into a piece of venison, and then he furrowed his dark brow, confused. "Isn't that what you did, today? You said you can speak the dragon language. You said that we both have our abilities."

Evelyna was caught. Her shoulders drooped, and she jammed her fork into her potato. "Well, it isn't a secret."

"What exactly did you do earlier? When you said those words, I could feel it, like thunder when it breaks right above you. And you were whispering."

"That's the thu'um. The Voice. I spoke those words in the dragon language, but when I do it, it's like a spell. The dragons use the same powers." She spoke quietly, like they were planning an attack on an enemy.

Fenris found this hard to believe, though he had witnessed it. Perhaps it was all just a trick. "And how common is this?"

Evelyna took a long sip of her mead and tilted her head at him, eyes solemn. "I'm alone, it seems." She shrugged. "Well, there are old men that can speak it, but it took them a very long time to learn. And I don't believe they can absorb the soul of a dragon when it dies."

Fenris' eyes went wide. "And you can, you say?"

She looked at her plate, quiet. Fenris could hardly believe it. But he saw one of those dragons. He knew things were different here. This was a different world, a different land with different magic. No blood mages, no templars and no magisters.

Then, suddenly, she looked at him. "I can't just tell you, you'd have to see it. But the Voice is too dangerous to use in here. And I don't know enough of the language to really... do much else."

"What else can you do with it?" He asked, intrigued.

"I can... jump ahead of where I am, very quickly. I can throw something back. If I had, say, a bear in front of me, I could toss it like a doll. I can confuse people into thinking there's another of me nearby."

Fenris smirked, still unbelieving. "I suppose you'll have to show me, when it isn't so dangerous."

She knew he didn't believe her, but she didn't make a big deal out of it. "And what of you, eh? You glowed blue when you were trying to kill me a few days ago in your delirium. What are you doing when you do that? You gave me a vague answer last time."

Fenris set his jaw, irritated. "I don't have the energy to show you right now." He took another bite of his venison, not feeling as starved as he had before.

"Well, will you show me when I show you?"

"That sounds fair," he rumbled between sips of his wine.

They ate their meals while looking out on the rest of the tavern. Whenever anyone stepped through the door, Fenris felt a desperate hope flaring up in the pit of his being, hoping that somehow one of his companions, or better yet, all of them, would come striding in. But this wasn't The Hanged Man, this wasn't Kirkwall and it wasn't even Thedas. Even if his friends were well, they wouldn't feel at-home here, just like him.

"Alright, I'm going to look for your friends," Evelyna wiped her mouth and stood, drinking the last out of her tankard. "Get some rest, you should feel better tomorrow."

"If you find anything, wake me," he asked, pushing back on his chair and grunting as he got to his feet. He gripped his wine bottle by the neck and hobbled towards one of the doors. "Does it matter which one?"

"Take this one, it has a nicer bed," she tapped her hand on the wooden door. He didn't ask how she knew so much about the beds here. "If I find your friends... is there anything I should expect?"

He leaned his shoulder on the door frame and wiggled the key in the lock, hearing the loud click. "Er, no," he said, "Hawke would rather talk to you than attack on sight.

"Very well," she nodded, and turned, pausing. She faced Fenris and unhooked one of her axes, holding it out to him. "Here. No one will bother you, but just in case."

He gave her a tight smile and took the axe from her and stepped into the room, hearing her soft leather-padded footsteps moving away across the second floor of The Winking Skeever. He saw the large bed, a small bath in the corner as well as some bookshelves and a table with a couple chairs around it. Fenris put the axe down by the bath and ran the water, which must run from the top of the mountain beside the city. The water was warm, surprisingly, already heated, and he undressed and slipped into the bath, almost groaning in relief as the warm water seeped into his skin and soothed his muscles and bones.

His thoughts remained in one place though, or maybe it was thousands. He couldn't stop thinking about whether Evelyna would find any of them. And if she did, what would she find? Who was still alive?

* * *

Evelyna stepped into the chilled night, and though it was already First Seed, the clouds from the north had come and ephemeral snowflakes floated down to greet her and the streets of Solitude. They melted upon landing on the ground, and twilight spread across Skyrim. Night was casting its cloak over her home, plunging the world into a certain darkness that always ended.

Evelyna couldn't believe what she was doing. It had been six days now, six days spent trying to keep that elf alive, but she couldn't leave him out in the wilderness to die. When she had seen him tied to that buoyant wood, washed up on the shore with the tide nearly choking him, she felt an inexplicable need to _do_ something. He wasn't her responsibility, she had no obligation to him.

Still, as fierce as she tried to be, Evelyna was cursed with a heart that was a bit softer than other's.

She saw a man sleeping near a wolfhound, in an alleyway, and made her way towards him. She cleared her throat as she approached, and the man didn't stir.

"Sir," she began, nudging his shoulder with her foot. He stank terribly. The wolfhound lifted its curious face, yellow eyes gazing at her. The man rolled onto his side, groaning.

"Ey?"

"Sir, I have a question for you." The beggars knew who came into the city better than anyone, because they had to know who to ask for money. If anyone had seen Fenris' friends, it was this man.

"Go away," he grumbled, rolling back onto his side.

"I'm looking for four people," she said, irritated. "There's money in it for you."

This got his attention. He sat up rather quickly, but still grumbling.

"Who?" He asked.

"I'm looking for an elf-woman with black hair and green eyes. A man with a dark beard and blue eyes. A short man with blond hair. A curvy, tanned woman."

The beggar nodded. "I saw the tanned woman and the man you're talking about, not the short one, but the one with the beard."

"Where were they going? Do you know where they are now?"

"The man came up to me and asked if I had seen someone, some elf man, I don't know. He asked if there was any place to stay, he didn't have any money, neither did his wife, or whoever she was. I told him if I wouldn't be sleeping under the stars if there were."

"When was this?"

"Three days ago."

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"That's it. They looked pretty ragged. Refugees or something, all confused. Barely knew where they were."

"If you see them, tell them that the elf is at the Winking Skeever." She dropped a few coins in his hands, and his dark eyes lit up thankfully.

"May the gods bless you," he told her as she stepped out of the alley and into the falling snow.

Evelyna traversed the streets, lighting a torch and passing through the alleyways, disturbing the homeless from their frozen slumber. She passed the graveyard, turned around in front of the Blue Palace, and moved back up towards The Winking Skeever. The night was dark and the snow falling faster, and Evelyna began to hurry her steps.

But she found no one matching Fenris' description. The bleary-eyed, hollow-cheeked homeless people of Solitude were all ones that had been there, natives to Tamriel. Disappointed, Evelyna walked back towards the tavern.

She walked along the windy, snowy streets and stepped into the warmth of the tavern, where Lisette strummed her lute and sang the "Age of Aggression," to a room of drunk Nordic men. Evelyna passed the room and flew up the flights of stairs to the second landing, knocking on Fenris' door.

He answered after only a few moments, opening the door only a crack. When his green eyes settled on her, he stepped back and allowed her in the room, holding her axe at his side. He shut the door behind her, and Evelyna saw that he had already bathed and put on a set of clothes that had likely been left in the wardrobe by someone else. The tunic and leggings didn't fit him, they were too large, but he didn't seem to mind too much.

"I see you've returned without anyone," he observed solemnly.

"I do have information, though," Evelyna said, glancing at his clothes that were hanging across the backs of the chairs. She realized how badly she needed her own bath. "A homeless man saw them, he said he talked to the bearded man, Hawke."

Fenris' eyes lit up in curiosity. He settled on his bed as Evelyna sat in the chair, leaning forward to not touch his drying clothes. "Hawke and the tan woman were here."

"Isabela," Fenris offered.

"Yes. Hawke and Isabela were here and they talked to a homeless man. He said they they were confused, he called them 'refugees.' They were looking for you, and asking if there was any work down at the docks. They had no money, and they left the city after that. That was two days ago."

Fenris leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Isabela was a pirate captain, back in Thedas. Do you think she would be able to find work here?"

Evelyna chuckled. "Well, probably, as long as she doesn't tell anyone she was a pirate. Still, it will be hard to convince someone that she came from Thedas. We've never even heard of your land before. It's going to be difficult when people start asking her where she was a captain, when, what ship, what happened to it?"

She was right, by all accounts. "Why wouldn't they stay in the city?"

Evelyna picked the dirt out from beneath her fingernails. "Since they were only looking for you, either your other friends are dead or Hawke knows where they are. Your other friends are what, a dwarf?" She pronounced the word slowly, unsure of how it was said. "And an elf, right?"

"Yes." The he thought he understood where she was going with this.

"You said elves are second class citizens where you're from." She tapped her fingers to her narrow jaw. "And when they landed here, they probably thought they were at some far reach of Thedas. So likely, they would want to leave the elf outside of the city, right?"

Fenris nodded. "But Hawke is from Ferelden, which is the only place in Thedas I can think of that would be this cold. He would recognize a city this big if he thought he was in Ferelden."

"Is all of Thedas explored, like Tamriel?"

"No," he admitted. "Alright. So Hawke and Isabela are alive," he ticked off one finger, "they are outside of Solitude, probably. They're looking for work at the docks."

Evelyna nodded. "Tomorrow we'll go there. If we don't have any luck... I'm sorry, Fenris. But I desperately have to get moving. You are welcome to come with me, especially if I can find you a greatsword that's inexpensive."

Fenris sat up straight, frowning. He couldn't expect this woman to stay and help him forever. Especially since she was a fugitive, running from elven supremacists. "I couldn't survive on my own out here," he muttered quietly, more to himself than anything. But his survival wasn't her responsibility, and he wouldn't ask it to be. "I... I'll go with you, if we don't find anything, but only until I understand how this," he waved around him, "until I understand how Skyrim works. As soon as I think I can survive here, I'll be back up here, looking for them."

Evelyna smiled kindly at him. "I understand. I'm sorry to put that pressure on you." She sighed. "I'm going to the Blue Palace tomorrow as well. I'm going to give the Jarl's steward some money and information on who these people are. That way, if anyone matching their description comes back to this town, they'll know how to contact us. It will have information on where to mail a letter, as well as enough gold to get them to my home, if needed."

Fenris didn't know what a Jarl was, or the Blue Palace, but her plan sounded helpful at the very least. "Would they have to go to the Blue Palace to do this?"

Evelyna's lips were pressed together in contemplative silence. Finally she shook her head. "No, I'll have them post a description of your friends at the gates for the guards to see. If they see your friends coming into the city, they'll direct them to the Palace, and the steward can explain to them what is happening. I'll write a letter for them to read."

Perhaps she was not only his best chance at survival, but also his best chance at finding his friends. "Thank you, Evelyna, for all that you're doing. I'll... I'll find a way to repay you."

He had stolen gold often when he was on the run from Danarius. But he paid debts that he felt he owed, and he certainly owed this elf woman more than he could care to imagine. For saving him, taking care of him, and jumping through fire to find his friends, all while she herself had to look over her shoulder constantly.

Evelyna smiled and got to her feet. "I don't mind, Fenris," she replied, but sounded weary with her accent, "but the night is getting late, and I need a hot bath and a long sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

She stepped to the door and opened it. "I hope we find them, I truly do." She said, and then shut the door behind her.

Fenris got up to lock it, and realized she had forgotten her axe. He groaned, picking it up. His body felt so much better after the hot bath, but he was still not completely fine. Still, tomorrow he knew he'd be able to walk and move all about.

Fenris got under the thick blankets of the bed, and he had never been so comfortable in his life, though his thoughts raced thinking of his friends. They were out in the wilderness, and if they weren't already dead, they were listening to the howling of the wolves or even the roar of a dragon.

He shivered and shut his eyes. The blink of an eye passed, it seemed, and Evelyna was rapping on his door.


	5. Dreams and Dragons

**Thank you so much for everyone reading/reviewing/following. I'm surprised that people seem to be taking to this story. I would put your names down but I'm on my phone so I can't switch to make sure I get everyone. Thank tou, your encouragement is constantly pushing me forward!**

* * *

_"Maw unleashing razor snow, Of dragons from the blue brought down, Births the walking winter's woe, The High King in his Jagged Crown."_

_ - Ancient Nord Verse_

* * *

Fenris sat up, blear-eyed and exhausted still. He marched to the door almost angrily, cracking it open to see Evelyna, cleaned and bathed, and even... rested? Had the whole night truly passed? He felt like he had only blinked his eyes. He could see shafts of dusty sunlight bursting in the few windows of The Winking Skeever.

"Good morning to you," Evelyna grinned. "You didn't sleep, did you?"

He was disoriented. Hadn't she_ just_ left the room? "Er, no, I did."

"You look exhausted still." She smiled almost apologetically. "I have been writing everything we'll need to give to the Jarl's steward. I only need a better description of your friends."

He stepped aside to let her in and in a moment they were both sitting at the little table in his room. Evelyna had several sheets of parchment laid out before her. Fenris took one in his hands and turned it over to read.

_To whom it may concern (Hawke, Isabela, Varric, Merril),_

_This is a friend of Fenris. He was injured in the wreck that happened one week ago, and for five days we remained in the hills until he was well enough to travel to Solitude. We received word that you were searching for him. Unfortunately, circumstance makes us have to leave the city. We will be heading South to Whiterun. If you come upon this, please know that Fenris is safe and would like to find you._

_My name is Evelyna. I live at Breezehome, in Whiterun. Enclosed is gold for you to send a letter and should also pay for passage for the four of you to travel to my home. We will be posting these in every town that we pass._

_Sincerely,_

_Evelyna & Fenris_

"It should work," he gave her back the letter. "But we still need to check the docks."

"I did, early this morning, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Only one person had said that he met them, meaning Hawke and Isabela, and he said that they left shortly after. They had asked if there were any ships going out, if there were any survivors of the shipwreck that happened. He told me that they hadn't seen any bodies, alive or dead. And whatever ship it was, it was a pirate ship anyway, because they had no records of a ship going out that way or one that would be coming in that time. So they essentially don't care what happens to anyone on that ship. They aren't going to use any resources finding your friends."

"Did he say anything else?"

"This early in the springtime only a few ships sail out because there are so many storms. So he told them that there wasn't much work, there wouldn't be for another month. He said that they asked to see a map, and he let them look at it for a time before they gave it back and ran off. I think that Hawke and Isabela probably abandoned their ideas of working at the docks."

Fenris contemplated this for a moment before he cleared his throat and asked, "What did you need help with?"

"I need a good description of the people you traveled with." She readied a quill and wrote out the four names.

He described Isabela, Hawke, Varric and Merril as best as he could as Evelyna wrote out their descriptions twice on different sheets of vellum. After, she folded up the letter with a sack of coins in it and sealed it up with hot wax and put it in a small satchel. Then she flattened out the descriptions of Fenris' friends.

"Skyrim is a big place, Fenris. Tamriel, obviously, more so. Your friends will have to come into the cities if they wish to survive, especially if they don't have any weapons. They'll see this, the guards will be watching for them. They'll take my money and go to Whiterun, and you'll be reunited."

"I hope that you are not mistaken," he said seriously, crossing his arms.

Evelyna nodded. "It is not impossible to find someone here, though. I've been tracked down, and I actually try to keep a low profile." She cracked him a feral grin before continuing. "If you'd like, I can come back. I'll run these to the Jarl's steward, and I can come get you so you don't have to walk so far."

"No, I'll go with you. Just give me a moment."

She nodded and got up, leaving him alone to get dressed in his own armor and clothing. His leggings were torn where his leg had been wounded, where now a long scar ran jagged along his thigh, causing breaks in the veins of lyrium on his skin. Fenris wished he had warmer armor to wear in this cold land. Perhaps Evelyna would supply him in that department as well.

He stepped out of the room to find her downstairs beside the burning hearth, seated at the bar and talking to the blond bard from the night before. "You haven't seen any refugees, have you, Lisette?" Evelyna was asking.

"No," the blond woman shook her head. "We don't get many foreigners this time of year, anyway, so I'd remember. It's too cold for people to travel, still."

Evelyna nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm... well, thank you, Lisette."

"Of course, dragonborn," Lisette smiled.

"Er, excuse me -?"

Lisette looked embarrassed. Fenris paused a couple feet from them, staring at the encounter. "There are rumors, you know, of an elf like you, who slayed the dragon outside of Whiterun. People said they have seen you up here recently. It is you, isn't it? Tell me I'm right."

Evelyna smiled at Lisette. "Please use discretion, I'm trying to stay unnoticed."

"Of course," Lisette replied with a knowing grin. The bard wore similar leathers and furs as Evelyna, but she didn't look as wild, as harsh. The bard turned and glanced at Fenris before leaving. "Take care, Evelyna."

"You also." Evelyna slid from the stool and cleared her throat nervously. "Let's go."

They stepped out into a world that was nearly blinding in midday light. Solitude was blanketed under a thin layer of snow. Icicles hung from the roofs of the buildings, and a pale sun shone down with mild warmth on all those below it. The air was still with a slight scent of salt. Fenris scowled as his calloused feet curled in the snow.

He vaguely thought that he would need boots if he wanted to keep all of his toes as Evelyna turned left from The Winking Skeever. Everywhere Fenris looked he saw the red and white wolf banner of Solitude, falling flat without a breeze to be felt.

"I've only seen snow twice before," he furrowed his brow at the white layer of cold. "And it never stuck, like this."

"No?" Evelyna laughed. "It snows every month out of the year, sometimes. I should bring you to High Hrothgar. There are drifts there twice as tall as you. We have piles of stones along all the roads so that travelers don't lose their way when they travel."

Fenris had seen some of those the day before, when they were on the road, but hadn't thought of them. "Is Valenwood cold, too?"

"I've never been, but I hear it's very warm. Why?"

"You say I look like a wood elf. If I am going to lie to the rest of the population, I should know something about my homeland." He smirked at her, but he could already feel his toes going numb. "I don't think I could tell everyone that I'm from some unheard of land across the ocean."

"No, you're probably right," she chuckled. "Yes, Valenwood is a warm place. But for now, I suggest that you say that you're from here. You wouldn't want a wood elf asking you too many questions. You could say that you were an orphan in Helgen, raised by Nords. That way they can't blame you for not knowing about the culture."

Fenris crossed his arms and shivered slightly as they walked through the snow dusted, cobbled streets. An elven man with grayish blue skin and red eyes was looking at his markings as he walked by with a burlap sack thrown over his shoulder. Fenris assumed that's what Evelyna was talking about when she mentioned the "Dark Elves."

"Where's Helgen, so that I know?"

Evelyna pressed her lips together, and for a moment Fenris wondered what she was thinking. "It's the town that was destroyed by the dragon. Where they tried to kill me. Now bandits live in what remains of it. You probably won't meet anyone that would know whether or not you were ever truly there."

Fenris committed this to memory. "When did this happen?"

"About three months ago. You can say that you were away from the town... I don't know, tracking a bear."

Fenris snorted, bemused. "I've never tracked an animal in my life," he said.

"Well, that explains why you never caught the bear, then, doesn't it?" She flashed him a wild grin.

Despite himself and everything that had happened, he couldn't help but let out the smallest chuckle. They walked beneath a towering stone bridge, past a small, quiet graveyard and down a few more narrow streets. Fenris' legs were still aching from the past week of hell on his body, but he figured that he would manage to survive the day. The slope up to The Blue Palace made him break out in a cold sweat, and he was ashamed to realize just how exhausted he really was.

He followed Evelyna anyway, into the courtyard of the Palace. She pushed open the heavy doors and he stepped into the foyer, which led to a room with two staircases leading up to the second landing. Fenris saw the guards, dressed in mail and red cloth, wielding their wolf shields and peering at him suspiciously behind their helms. He felt uneasy as he struggled up the stairs behind Evelyna, whose steps were slower than natural as to not make him feel rushed.

Atop the stairs, across from them, sat a woman upon what Fenris imagined was a throne. She was speaking with a woman clothed in robes, and a guard stood near her as well as another man, even more heavily armed in heavy plate. Fenris felt his heart pounding in his chest. Great wolves on red and white banners stared down at him, though in amity or animosity he couldn't tell.

Evelyna was approached immediately by a red bearded man with a nasty scar on his face. "Do you have business with the court?" He asked Evelyna with wary eyes.

"Indeed, I do," she replied. "It does not need to concern Jarl Elisif. May we speak?"

The man nodded and gestured to some chairs to the right. The man sat in one, Evelyna the next and Fenris at the end.

"My name is Falk Firebeard, I'm the steward. What brings you here today?"

Evelyna took out the satchel which contained the letter for Hawke and the money, as well as the two flyers that detailed each person's physical description and name.

"We are looking for four people, friends of ours that are not from Skyrim who we were traveling with," Evelyna began. "I intended on showing them Haafingar. We were on our way to Solitude when we," she gestured to Fenris and herself, "were out hunting in the forest. A nasty storm came out of nowhere, about a week ago, right?" She turned to Fenris, who only nodded, before looking back at the steward.

"We had to wait out the storm in the forest, and when we went to their camp they had gone. I wasn't able to track them, and it turns out we must have just missed them coming in to Solitude by a few days. I'm sure they will return. All I ask is that you post one of these at the gate for your guards to see, that way they can identify our friends. I would like the guards to tell our friends to go here. When they come here, would you please give them this?" Evelyna held out the satchel to him, and he took it warily.

"This is a lot you are asking," Falk Firebeard said, sounding bothered. "The gates see a lot of traffic. And how will I know the right people come here?"

"I have a description of each of them, one for the gates, and one for you." She handed him the two pieces of flat vellum, and he read over them quickly, still holding the satchel.

He was beginning to shake his head "no," when Evelyna grinned at him. "I'm willing to pay the city one-hundred gold for its services. All we wish is to make sure our friends are safe."

Falk Firebeard glanced around and then nodded slowly. "We do not wish to let tourists perish in the mountains. I will have this posted at the gate, and I'll be keeping this satchel until they come for it."

"Thank you, thank you very much." Evelyna rose, and dug out a pouch that jingled when it shook. How much money, Fenris wondered, had she spent on him and his friends now? More than he could ever repay, that was for certain.

Falk Firebeard took the gold and shook Evelyna's hand. "Take care, I hope that your friends are safe."

"Thank you," she answered again, before turning to go with Fenris moving slowly at her heels.

"That went well," he observed when they were back in the courtyard.

She nodded. "Solitude is the seat of the Empire in Skyrim. They won't refuse money, not when they're fighting a war."

He supposed that was true enough. His thoughts were racing as he tried to remember his alibi - where he was from, what had happened at Helgen, what he would tell other Tamrielic people what happened to his friends.

"How did we meet, if I was out tracking a bear?" He asked suddenly as they passed slowly beneath the bridge again.

She wrinkled her narrow nose in thought, hazel eyes squinting in the blinding light reflecting off the snow. Fenris couldn't feel his bare feet anymore, and he assumed those walking by would think that, if not for his spiky shoulders and steel breastplate and gauntlets, he was homeless. Which, he realized, he was.

"When I escaped Helgen, I found you on the road. You had seen the dragon fly above, and you could see the smoke of all the burning buildings. You were running back to the town, and found me, and I told you that it was no use and everyone was dead."

Fenris nodded, committing this also to memory. "Was Helgen a nice town?"

She smiled sadly, showing no teeth and lifting her eyes to a wall on their right. She began up the stone flight of stairs that would bring them to the top of the wall. "It was, actually. Small, quiet, near the Southern border and in the mountains."

He couldn't imagine there being anything other than mountains here. Up above, directly in front of him, the summit of a massive mountain loomed high into the sky, dripping with snow that looked as if it could bury the city beneath. Evelyna turned right and brought Fenris into Solitude Blacksmith.

The shop was large inside, and when they entered a man looked up from a grindstone and his lip curled in a half-smile. "Welcome, can I help you find something?"

"I think we're looking for a bit of armor," Evelyna answered, smiling to Fenris. At the very least he needed something on his feet. He liked the lightness of his armor - the breastplate and the gauntlets were enough and had kept him safe enough all these years.

"Just some boots, actually," Fenris corrected politely.

"Ha!" The man chuckled, looking at Fenris' feet, "You could certainly use them. Alright. You like steel, I see?"

He set his jaw and gave the man a small nod. Evelyna crossed her arms, hazel eyes scanning the shop for something that would suit him.

"And a greatsword," Evelyna said, hitting the back of her slender hand softly against Fenris' elbow before pointing to a weapon rack where a greatsword hung beside a battleaxe and a warhammer.

"I have just the equipment for you, then. My name's Heimvar, by the way. I'm the apprentice here. I can sell you this steel greatsword for one-hundred gold." He moved to the weapon rack and pulled the greatsword off, handing it to Fenris.

He took it by the leather pommel, feeling its weight. It was heavy and his arms were weak from months at sea without needing to use his weapon. The leather stretched up to perhaps a third of the weapon, after a break where the steel jutted out. In the metal were knotted carvings darker than the rest of the blade.

Fenris had missed this, the heavy weight of steel in his hands. He ran his thumb perpendicular to the blade, testing its edge. It was sharp, like Evelyna's axes. The people of Skyrim knew enough to keep their weapons effective. Fenris' lip curled subconsciously into a half-smirk, pleased.

Beneath a snowy curtain of white bangs, he glanced at Evelyna and met her hazel eyes. The dim candlelight of the shop gave her eyes the faintest glimmer, and she smiled.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," he answered, not wanting to say that he had lost his strength in the journey from Thedas. "It's well-made," he said with a brief nod at Heimvar, who lit up like a beacon with pride.

"Seventy-five for the blade," Evelyna said to Heimvar, sounding sure of herself.

He crossed his arms, thinking this over. "Eighty-five."

"Seventy-five," she stayed firm. "We're still going to look at boots."

"Very well," he said, not grumbling too much. Fenris tried on several pairs of boots before finally settling on a pair that even matched his gauntlets, though it was a bit darker. They still retained the sharp characteristics of his gauntlets, and they were the only ones that actually fit his feet.

"Those are Orcish," Heimvar said, and that really meant nothing to Fenris. He glanced blankly between Heimvar and Evelyna, who was assessing the pair of boots with interest.

"They are small, for Orcish."

Heimvar shot her an annoyed glance that she didn't notice, but Fenris did. "We craft pairs that are smaller than the average Orc-sized, to fit the rest of us."

She chuckled, and nodded her approval. "Alright, we'll buy these both. I'm not going over one-hundred and thirty for the boots."

Heimvar grumbled. Fenris stood, furrowing his brow at the feeling of wearing shoes. He had lived most of his life in the tropical lands of Tevinter, and originally, Seheron. Even Kirkwall was warm enough that he hadn't truly needed shoes. But here, in Skyrim where snow falls during every month, he would need them if he wanted to keep any of his toes from frostbite, which had affected on of Hawke's uncle's, he told him once.

"One-fifty for the boots. You'd be stealing them at that price."

"One-forty," she compromised, voice stern.

"Bah," he waved his hand angrily. "Fine. It's two-hundred and fifteen for everything."

Fenris watched hopelessly as Evelyna paid the man, and he despairingly wondered how he would ever pay her back. He was building more of a debt here than he had ever built in Thedas, if he didn't count his own escaping. In Thedas, his lyrium was worth more than its weight in diamonds, so he had cost Danarius a large fortune by slipping through his fingers. But here, in Tamriel and Skyrim, he was worth nothing. Lyrium wasn't even a thing here.

"I am grateful," he told Evelyna as they finally made their way to the city gates. His boots crunched satisfyingly in the thin layer of snow, and the sword on his back had been sorely missed, though it would take some getting used to. "Truly, for everything you've done. I hope that I can repay you, someday."

She chuckled. "I get most of my gold from exploring bandit hideouts and old tombs. My gold was rarely ever mine to begin with. But I can't afford to buy you a horse now, I hope you know."

"I wouldn't expect you to," he said honestly.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" She asked as they passed beneath the wolf banners, out into the rest of Tamriel. The road before him sloped downwards, where to the south a type of bay opened up with several islands dotting it.

"I'm sorry?"

"The sword."

"Yes. I told you I fight with a greatsword."

"Just because you fight with something doesn't mean you know how to truly use it."

Fenris rolled his eyes. "I handle myself," he replied.

"Good. Then for now, that's how you can repay me. Help me fight when I need it. Until we find your friends."

"It's a deal," he rumbled, looking up at the hawks circling high above, their screams echoing off the snowy mountains.

They found Evelyna's cow-colored horse at the stables, and they took turns leading the animal down the road. Neither seemed to want to share the saddle with the other, since the only time they had done that had been in an emergency.

The road traveled along the water, on the side of the mountain so that Fenris could see all the mountains in the distance proving a formidable horizon of jagged, snowy peaks. He wondered if this is what Ferelden looked like. Hawke had never talked too much about it.

They had only been on the road for a few hours when the sun began its long descent towards the horizon in front of them. The sky was awash in pale pinks and blues, and a cold breeze began to stir from the north, down across the mountains beside them. Fenris was sore. It had been months since he had walked so much. He had let himself get weak on the ship, though at the time he had only seen it as respite.

They were silent for most of the afternoon, until they passed a group of travelers in robes that reminded him suspicious of mages. After they were out of earshot, Evelyna asked, "What would make you leave your homeland? Why would you sail off into the horizon without any idea what was out there?"

"It's a long story," he replied, without any irritation in his tone. Evelyna nodded.

"We have three hours, roughly, before we come across Dragon Bridge."

He didn't know what that was, but he cleared his throat anyway. "Well... I already told you I was a slave. I escaped my master and came upon this city, Kirkwall, after three years of running. I met Hawke when I was there -"

"How?"

"I had gone to a dwarf, gave him money, and he hired some mercenaries to pick up something that was meant for me. I went to see what happened, and saw that it was a trap, which I had suspected. Hawke, his sister, a mage named Anders and a dwarf named Varric were there, and they had killed all the slavers that were actually there looking for me." Fenris took a breath. It had been such a long time.

"I asked Hawke to help me chase down my former master, who was not where I thought he would be. I decided to follow Hawke, hoping that my services, my blade, would pay him back for all he did for me."

She nodded with the slightest grin on her face. "Sounds familiar," she chuckled.

Fenris continued, not listening. "I followed Hawke for... six years. Seven, if you include after we left Kirkwall, I suppose. One of our companions attacked the Chantry and murdered several people. It sparked complete chaos. Hawke had to kill him, hoping it would bring justice. But it wasn't good enough. We had to fight the Knight-Commander, as well as the First Enchanter - the templar leader and the mage leader in the city - and after we killed them, we had to flee the city. We found a ship a few weeks leader in a different city, and Isabela was able to convince some of the crew to stay. We pooled our money together for the ship and supplies."

"You were running from... who? The... templars? Or the mages?" She had to pronounce the word "templar" slowly, because Fenris knew that the first she had ever heard of them was only a few days ago.

He snorted. "Both. Neither. I don't know. Hawke didn't want to be in the middle of it. He had killed one of his friends. He wanted nothing to do with it. And he knew that we would be followed, so that we could be interrogated about what we knew."

Fenris was then busy explaining to her the dynamic and social structure of Thedas. How mages were kept under watch by the Templars. He explained to her the role of the Chantry, told her how mages in fact needed to be watched over to avoid becoming abominations. He told her about all the terrible things blood mages did, what the magisters did. He recalled how Danarius had murdered a little boy once in a blood magic ritual.

"They sound so depraved," Evelyna had murmured quietly. By now the sun was gone behind the reaching mountains, and she carried a burning torch that made its light dance upon her sharp, angular face.

"They are," he growled. When he looked at her, she seemed just as overwhelmed as he had felt upon arriving here in Skyrim, how he still felt.

And then he saw it's lanterns - Dragon Bridge - down a sloping hill. The village was a small one, only a handful of wooden buildings with thatched roofs and porches, bordered to the north by sheer cliff walls of gray stone, and to the south by a roaring river that tumbled over a waterfall noisily. Fenris saw smoke from the chimneys floating into the starlit night sky, darker than any night he had ever seen in Tevinter or in the Free Marches.

Far off, he could hear the chattering and yipping of a pack of coyotes hunting, but at least the night was lacking the mournful song of the wolves that always chilled him to the bone. Evelyna stopped before a building labeled "Four Shields," and she tied the horse to a post outside.

"What's this?" Fenris asked. "An inn?"

"Yes," she replied. "You must be hungry."

The only time they had eaten that day was when Evelyna offered him some jerky that she had in one of her bags. But he was too ashamed to ask for any more, or to ask her to spend any more money on some food for them. She had done enough, and had spent at least three-hundred gold on him already in an effort to help him find his friends and get him armored, which, he supposed, also benefited her.

Fenris looked away solemnly as Evelyna took her packs from the horse, but left Hawke's shield hanging on it. Fenris thought of trying to sell it to help repay his debt to her, but it wasn't his to sell.

He followed Evelyna into the tavern, immediately noticing the smell of salted beef and fish, as well as the roasting of vegetables and the fragrance of a special kind of wood burning. A wide fire burned in the center of the tavern, and the tables against the walls were lacking any patrons. The tavern was quiet as could be, aside from one man in a singular chair with his feet up on the stones around the fire.

One girl swept the floor, shooting them a brief smile, while another woman stood behind the counter at the end of the tavern, polishing some tankards.

"Finally, some business," the woman chuckled as they approached. "My name is Faida, I own Four Shields. What can I get you two?"

Fenris had become somewhat accustomed to people staring at his markings, but it was impossible to completely ignore it. His lip curled menacingly as the woman, Faida, cast a fourth glance at the markings on his neck.

"I'd like some roasted pheasant," Evelyna pointed to the dead game hanging behind the innkeep. "And I believe some for him, as well." Evelyna looked at Fenris, who nodded and gave her a polite half-smile.

"Splitting one?" Faida asked.

"Yes, should be enough. I'd like to split a bottle of spiced wine with him as well, if that works for you?" She turned to him again and his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

"Please," he murmured, feeling his stomach growling with hunger at the very thought of pheasant and spiced wine.

"I'll give you this loaf too, before it goes stale," Faida said, nodding to a loaf of bread on a plate nearby. "Let me grab your wine, I'll have Julienne bring your food to you. Are you looking for a room for the night as well?"

"Yes," Evelyna said. "Do you have two available?"

Faida sucked in through her teeth, frowning apologetically. "No, I'm sorry, we only have one."

Evelyna looked at Fenris as Faida reached beneath the counter and grabbed a bottle of wine.

"It's fine," he muttered, and it was. He couldn't ask her to spend extra money on him, not anymore.

"Alright, one will do."

Faida smiled and handed them their wine before pulling the fattest pheasant off the rack. "It'll be fifteen gold."

Evelyna smiled and gave her the money. "Thank you. Could you also board my horse for the night, she's outside."

"Of course I will. And thank you," Faida replied, pocketing the money as she moved away from the counter to pluck the bird. Fenris and Evelyna found a seat at a table, but faced the fire, drinking in its rare warmth. Fenris had never thought he would love sitting in front of a fire so much, because he had never experienced snow and the cold like this.

"Can you show me where we're going?" He asked as he poured some wine into a glass for himself, and for Evelyna. He put the glass beside her on the bench and took his sword off of his back so he could sit normally.

"Of course," Evelyna pulled out the map of Skyrim and pointed to the northwest. "We're here, at Dragon Bridge." He saw the road they had traveled. "And we're going here," she drew her finger southeast, to a town called Riverwood, which stood south of a town called Whiterun, with a horse's head as its sigil.

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Five days, about, from here. The tricky part is here," she pointed to about halfway directly between, where mountains were drawn. "It is very dangerous. Oh, and you're from here." She drew her finger even further south to Helgen.

She flashed him a wicked grin, and Fenris studied the map carefully, trying to still gain his bearings. Keeping his voice low, he asked, "What province is to the south?"

"Cyrodiil. The heart of the Empire."

Fenris nodded. He had learned that when he asked too many questions, he would end up confused. He spared a quick glance at the only other man in the tavern, to see that the man was watching them warily. Everyone seemed to watch them carefully in Skyrim.

A few minutes passed where Fenris examined the map, trying to figure out where Hawke and Isabela could have gone. Faida stuck a spit through the pheasant and propped it up over the fire for it to cook before their eyes, before bringing them the loaf of bread that she had promised them.

When he glanced up again, and still saw the man staring at him, he growled low in his throat. "Why is he staring?" Fenris asked through his teeth, not moving his mouth.

Evelyna shrugged nonchalantly and crossed her feet at the ankles, propping them up on the stones of the fire and undoing her long, messy braid that made her look like a barbarian more than anything else. "We're Wood Elves," she said quietly before a slight chuckled, "Bosmer, if you want to get technical. We're Wood Elves in Skyrim, a place we shouldn't be, yet we were born here," she nudged him and he wondered if the wine had already gone to her head.

She took another swig of her wine and leaned back against the table, glancing at the massive elk's head perched on the wall. "We aren't Nords. And yet, this is our home. But we are criticized for loving it."

Fenris' green eyes sparkled in the roaring firelight. Was that how it truly was here? Did people really feel so tied to their homeland, that it was offensive to them if others tried to fight in its name? He had never been attached to any land before. Or if he had, he had forgotten.

Fenris turned to the fire, lost in his own thoughts. That was his biggest shame. He couldn't remember his mother's embrace, or worse, if he had ever had it. He couldn't remember the smell of Seheron, or the competition he had supposedly won to free his mother and sister. These were things a normal elf _would_ remember,_ should_ remember, and yet, he couldn't.

The pheasant was finally done cooking, and it seemed like years before Fenris could bite into it at last. He and Evelyna had cut it straight down the middle, and they both picked the bones clean. At last, they finished off the bottle of wine, and the man had left, and Fenris felt _warm_ for the first time since leaving Kirkwall.

Their room was a modest one, with little more than a small bed in the corner. Evelyna gestured to it, but Fenris wouldn't have felt right making her sleep on the floor.

"Please, I owe you enough already." He sat down on the rug, leaning back against the wall. "Take the bed."

Evelyna threw him a pillow and a couple blankets, but it seemed she was too tired to say much else as well. Fenris stretched out on the floor, and by the time he was comfortable, Evelyna's breathing was slow and steady. The crackling of the fire in the hall of the tavern brought him into his dreams. His dreams were filled with wolves prowling snow-covered hills, crisp wind blowing in from a salty sea. Fenris could hear the howling in his dreams. A constant euphony, a song older than time itself and more mournful than anything he had ever heard. Maybe he was like the wolf. Stalking in the shadows, prowling, hungry, vengeful. The crying of the wolves died, and in its place the roaring began.

He saw his friends, all of them, or those that were left - on the ship, facing the dragon, a creature with eyes too intelligent for any lesser animal. The dragon no longer had hooves, but the claws that it was supposed to have. It screamed like a mourning widow, it thrashed like an antelope being taken down by a lion.

And he felt hands upon him where he lay on the ship. Slender fingers, elven fingers, dug into his lyrium-engraved arms. Her hazel eyes were wide with panic, the storm brewed all around her.

"Fenris! Fenris, get up!"

And then he opened his eyes, and not the blink of an eye had passed before he had her wrists seized in his own hands.

The walls of the tavern shook. And the screaming from his dreams - the roaring - pierced his ears, muffled by the thatched roof.

Without a word, Evelyna wrenched herself free from his stunned grip and sprinted out the door.

The dragon was real. The dragon was here.


	6. Never Wake a Sleeping Dragon

**Special thanks to Pint-sized She-Bear, Golden Naginata, Annonimous4862, Blinded in a bolthole, Fallon-Idalia, melgonzo and Wicked Lullaby for your reviews! I'm so glad you all seem to like this story so far. And of course, thank you to everyone else who has been reading!**

* * *

_And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, That when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, With a hunger to swallow the world!_

_ - Song of the Dragonborn_

* * *

Fenris lurched to his feet and rushed to pull on his boots, gauntlets and breastplate as Evelyna was doing the same for her own furs and leathers. She was quicker than he at this, and in the back of his mind he wondered if she often had to get dressed as a dragon brought the world down around her.

There was nothing quite like waking up to this, he thought, deciding he would ignore the blisters on his feet from wearing the Orcish boots. He'd be used to them eventually. And no pain bothered him quite like getting his markings. He had become skilled at ignoring scrapes and blisters.

The dragon screamed, and he and Evelyna shared a brief look of alarm. She wasn't frightened half-to-death as he expected, however. She had a determined look in her hazel eyes. She had done this before, he reminded himself, and he had promised to help her.

Fenris scrambled outside after Evelyna, who had her bow tight in her left hand. Rain fell onto Skyrim from thick, dark clouds above, washing away the thin layer of snow. Small puddles were beginning to gather in the street.

Fenris saw that it was chaos already for this small town. The guards were drawing their bows, if they had them, and so were other men and women in a different kind of armor, the Imperial armor. Evelyna leaped from the porch of Four Shields, and Fenris followed, drawing his sword. His hands gripped the leather hilt with ease, partially with thanks to the adrenaline that swam in his veins. The pre-battle rush was not new to him, nor was it negligible even after all these years of running and fighting.

The heaving sound of a great animal breathing drew his attention. He saw the creature atop the tavern with its long and thin, leathery wings spread like a minatory bat. The dragon was white, like the one that had attacked the ship and perhaps killed his friends. But this one had a horn that had broken off. Was it the same one?

The dragon's hind legs gripped the tavern, long and curling claws digging into the thatched roof. Fenris vaguely heard Faida screaming for them and the guards to save her inn. He also heard Evelyna hiss beside him, and the strain of the bowstring as she drew an arrow.

The dragon roared, the claws on its wings flexing. The arrow flew to the creature and pierced its breast. The dragon hardly seemed to notice as it roared again, and drew its long, reptilian head down towards them all. A rain of arrows fell upon the animal from all directions, most missing their mark.

Fenris wasn't in the direct line of it, but a cold more frigid than ice seemed to shoot through the air towards a handful of guards, straight from the dragon's maw. They either shouted out in pain or staggered away from the blast, and Fenris felt a shiver trickle out from his chest. How powerful were these things, truly?

Evelyna shot another arrow at the dragon, but it pushed off the tavern with immense force, snapping a beam on the roof. Luckily, Four Shields was built with enough integrity that it withstood the blow, like it had withstood the dragon's weight in snow for years, he was sure.

The dragon lifted into the sky, rain dripping off the creature in sheets as it flapped its wide, menacing wings.

"Come down here," Evelyna growled at the dragon, "Get down here."

Fenris watched the dragon as it circled the town, roaring and snapping its jaws violently. Evelyna sprinted to her right, and Fenris jogged after her, unsure of what she was doing. The dragon circled overhead, and Fenris got a sinking feeling in his gut as the dragon spotted Evelyna, standing in an open spot before the Dragon Bridge.

The ground seemed to shake as the dragon came barreling into the ground, landing heavily on its hind legs, the claws on its wings digging into the soggy soil. Evelyna was only roughly twenty feet from the dragon's face. He heard its jaws snap shut before it roared, a sound that seemed to shake the walls of the buildings.

He had fought dragons before. In the Bone Pit. In the Deep Roads. He could do this. He moved off towards the side as Evelyna sheathed her bow and drew out her axes. He would try to flank the dragon, taking it off guard. If he killed it quickly enough, he wouldn't get too hurt in the process.

But he glanced at Evelyna, and saw a determined, fearless look in her hazel eyes. Her lips curled as she snarled at the beast, almost an animal herself. Fenris felt the wind against his face as the dragon's wing slammed down, driving its claws into the dirt.

_"Fus.._." Fenris paused to see if she was yelling at him, but she was staring at the dragon, approaching it with her axes dripping from the rain, "_ro dah_!"

Fenris felt the power of the voice rumble in his chest. Even the grass shivered before Evelyna. But more than anything, to his complete and utter amazement, the dragon flinched. It's reptilian head lowered to the ground cowering, yellow eyes squeezed shut as the creature trembled.

If he ever had a chance, this was it. He forced his amazement down, he could come to that later. Fenris ran forward, avoiding the thin wings and drove his sword deep into the dragon's side. The tip of the blade met resistance - the dragon's hide was tough and scaled, but it broke beneath the pressure. He buried the steel to the hilt as the dragon roared out in pain, screams seeming to echo through the tundra of Skyrim.

Following his lead, the other guards were attacking the dragon's sides, some others still shooting some arrows. Fenris even felt one narrowly miss his ear. He twisted the blade, and tried to hang from the pommel to move the sword around inside the dragon.

The creature's scream was horrific, and he almost felt bad for killing such a thing. The dragon lurched forward, and Fenris stumbled away, cursing. A massive, scaled tail smashed into his hip and he was brought to his hands and knees from the impact. Ahead, Evelyna was jumping backwards as fast as she could, trying to stay out of reach of the creature's teeth.

Why didn't she use that power again? Fenris wanted to scream at her as she slashed, her axes spinning in her hands. They weren't enough to scare the dragon. It had met its match, a fellow speaker of its language, and it wanted her dead.

Fenris staggered to his feet as the guards tried to drive their swords into the creature's belly. Evelyna chucked one axe and turned, running as the dragon's teeth snapped only inches from her.

The axe shaved a thin layer of scale from the dragon's face before skittering across the dirt street.

The dragon's roaring was now a groan of sorts, a mourning cry that was weak more than it was anything else. The dragon turned its head, now focusing on those that attacked its sides. Evelyna turned on her heels, sliding in the mud, and ran at the dragon, an axe in her left hand.

The dragon leaned into the building beside it heavily, as if it knew it was going to die. It snapped at a guard who was too busy slashing at the creature's shoulder to even see its jaws close around his waist. Fenris heard the man scream, but he watched Evelyna swing onto the dragon's neck and drive her axe down into its scaled skin. The dragon shuddered as she hacked at it, and it roared out a mournful cry as its body slumped to the ground, claws and horns on its chin dragging grooves in the mud.

Fenris took a few steps towards the dragon as it's last groan left its jaws. Evelyna climbed off the dragon's neck, limping as she took a few steps and put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

Then something happened. The energy changed, a shift in the air, in the world. Fenris froze in his steps and could only watch in amazement.

The dragon's body began to glow as the rain fell down heavily. A light as warm and bright as the sun radiated from the dragon's body, and flaps of its scales and hide seemed to float into the air like ashes from a fire. The guards and Imperial soldiers all backed off, panicked, but Evelyna didn't seem surprised. She pushed away her wild, black hair that stuck to her forehead, and met eyes with Fenris.

The orange energy swirled away from the dragon's corpse taking with it everything but bones, and whirled around Evelyna like a tornado meant only for her. It made her hair dance, and the fur on her armor shiver like a breeze sighing over a field of grass. She sighed and took a few steps away from the dragon, but the energy followed her, swelling up like a storm around her before it disappeared while drawing into her, as if sucked into her skin.

Fenris could see that the other townspeople hadn't expected this either. They all stared at her almost horrified.

"It's like the ancient legends... Dragonborn?" He heard one man ask. Evelyna said nothing as she gathered up the axe she had thrown and hooked it to her hips.

"It may be dead now... but where did it come from?" Asked another.

She then seemed to remember something, and she ran to the man that had been bitten. As if remembering this as well, the other guards rushed to his aid. He didn't seem to be alive, though, and Fenris knew that he could do nothing for him.

Fenris went to the dragon, which lay as only a skeleton, slumped against a building. Fenris' great sword fell to the ground from where it had been lodged between two ribs. He sheathed his sword and put a hand on the dragon's rib cage which protected no organs. Where had the body gone, he wondered?

He walked to the face, where its maw was opened to reveal sharp and long teeth nearly the length of his fingers. He crouched down and grabbed onto one of the horns on the dragon's nose, turning the dragon's head so he could see the mouth better. The length of the teeth told him that the man would die if he wasn't already dead.

In the end, the man wasn't saved. Fenris still wondered if the same dragon had also taken the lives of his friends. He turned away from the beast, disgusted, and went to stand on the porch of Four Shields, out of the rain.

Evelyna made her way to him when all hope for that one guard to survive had left her. All the blood that had gotten on her, the dragon's blood, was dripping off her fingertips because of the intense rain. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and limped slowly up the steps to the porch.

"You're injured?" Fenris asked.

"No, I'm fine. Just bruised from the dragon's spikes."

He frowned and nodded, looking at the corpse of the great white dragon. "That's what you were telling me about. The Voice."

She nodded, lips pressed together tightly.

"And you're the only one that can do that?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm the only one that doesn't need to meditate for years to speak it. But even Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm can speak it."

"So you can just... learn the language?"

"Yes," she nodded. "It's quick, for me."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know."

Fenris scratched his cheek. "You should have used it more than once."

The rain fell down the dips of her collarbone, and dripped down beneath her leathers and furs. "I would have hurt a lot of people if I did that."

He narrowed his eyes at her, confused. "That man died -"

"You don't want me to ever use that shout if you're in the way, I promise you that." She was angry, he realized. But it could have easily been him instead of that guard. "The dragon only flinched, because it's a bloody_ dragon_. Anyone our size would have gone flying off the cliff into the river to die."

He took in a breath, nervous. "I am sorry," he said sincerely. "I do not know much about your... skills."

She wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms, glaring out at the village around her. "That man's death is not my fault."

"It would have been much worse if you weren't here," he offered, and it was the truth.

She nodded.

"Does the dragon know that you're... kindred, almost?"

She chewed her bottom lip, unsure. "I couldn't say. I believe so. They're smart."

"And where... where did it's body go?"

Evelyna scratched her head in thought. "The dragons are being resurrected. They aren't being born, like other animals. It's a Shout. When they rise from the dead, they are skeletons, and when they die, they go back to it. But Fenris, we have to go. We can't stay here. We could get to the next town if we leave now, and push the horse hard."

The last thing Fenris wanted to do with the weather so treacherous was travel by horseback. The ride into Solitude had been a harrowing experience, and he didn't want to replicate that again. But he had pledged his temporary allegiance with Evelyna, the Dragonborn, and he was a man of his word if nothing else. Loyal, even to Hawke when he had made all those bad decisions to help the mages.

Besides, Evelyna was his best chance for survival, and for finding his friends. He had to follow her if he wished for those things.

So he did not complain as he climbed onto the horse within the hour, Evelyna perched in front of him. The townspeople did try to get her to stay. They felt as if a prophet had blessed them, Fenris imagined, sending the Dragonborn to Dragon Bridge the day before a dragon attack. Honestly, he felt similar. He was not a Maker-fearing man, generally, but it had crossed his mind that perhaps there was such a thing as fate.

For a wood-elf to find him washed up on the shore, a woman who seemed more alike him than not, to save him and offer so much... it was truly something to be grateful for. Fenris still had moments where he wondered if this were all some strange dream.

But it couldn't be. The rain was cold, chilling him to the bone. It let up as they left the town over the ancient and beautiful Dragon Bridge, but he was already soaked at that point, and already feeling miserable. At least he had been able to run and fight, though, and for that he was glad.

"What will they do with the dragon?" He asked, leaning back in the makeshift saddled with his hands on the horse's rump to hold him in place. He didn't feel comfortable to wrap his arms around her again, not since the horse was only walking.

"Burn him, likely."

Fenris glanced over his shoulder, could still see the massive corpse that was the dragon. "Are they all exactly like that one?"

"No," she answered quickly. "They have different colors, different abilities."

"And how many are there?"

She scoffed, pushing away some hair from her face. "I don't know. Alduin is resurrecting them from their burial grounds."

"Alduin?"

"The... he's the harbinger of the end times. The World Eater." She cleared her throat. "A long time ago, the dragons wanted to enslave us all. Alduin is like... the king of the dragons."

Fenris thought on that for a time, trying to keep his mind off of the cold mist. He realized just how big of a situation he had walked into, or sailed into rather.

By mid-afternoon, the rain began to beat down heavily again, and Evelyna cursed under her breath.

Fenris caught a glimpse of something slinking in the woods to their left. "Evelyna," he said, pointing, "look."

She stopped the horse and stared, and Fenris realized it was a dog of sorts, watching them with pale yellow eyes. Its gray fur was shaggy, but the animal was enormous. Taller than a wolf, perhaps, but thinner.

"A wolfhound," Evelyna observed, turning the horse towards the forest. She wasn't planning on leaving the road, was she?

But she did. Evelyna led the horse beneath the overhang of the pine trees, so that Fenris had to duck to avoid low-hanging branches. The wolfhound would run ahead and then stop to look at them, barking, until they came upon a small cottage, a shack really.

Fenris growled low in his throat. "Someone probably lives here," he said, voice low and dark. Evelyna was already dismounting gracefully, careful not to kick him. She grinned up at him, though water fell in her eyes and made her blink furiously.

"I want to see. I can't stand this rain any longer."

He got off the horse as well. If the stubborn elf wasn't going to play it safe, then he wasn't going to wait and sit on a horse that he didn't know how to ride. He tied the horse to the nearest pine tree and drew his sword while Evelyna readied her bow.

The wolfhound was clawing at the door to the cottage. They approached quietly, sure that the rain was muffling any sounds their feet had on the soggy ground. Just as Evelyna was about to open the door, Fenris grabbed her elbow.

"Allow me," he said. After all, he was the warrior. Always the first one into battle besides Aveline or Hawke. He stepped in front of the elven woman and opened the door quickly, sword readied.

And then the smell hit him. He took a step back, bumping into Evelyna. He coughed and turned to face her.

"There's a dead man," Fenris said. "I'll move the body."

"You'll move him? We don't have time to bury him."

"Then we won't bury him." Fenris leaned his sword against the wall and stepped inside. He pulled up the sheets the body laid on, atop the small bed, so that he didn't have to actually touch the body. He brought it outside as Evelyna began lit a fire in the fireplace. Wood had already been stacked, as if the poor fool had been planning on having a nice fire before he died.

The wolfhound followed Fenris as he dragged it out a bit further into the forest. He turned and headed back towards the shack with the wolfhound at his heels still.

"The dog's name is Meeko," Evelyna said as Fenris stepped back into the shack, pushing his sopping white hair out of his eyes. The dog cocked its head at her. "Meeko?"

"Meeko?" Fenris repeated. "That's almost as bad as Ser-Pounce-a-Lot."

Evelyna snorted, as if she didn't even believe that someone would name an animal that. If only she knew, he thought. Fenris eagerly sat before the fire and crossed his legs, his need to feel warm and dry taking preference over his hunger.

"He wasn't dead very long," Evelyna observed, looking in the drawers of the end table. Fenris shook his head and rubbed his hands in front of the fire.

"No. Only a few days."

Evelyna paused and looked down at Meeko. "Poor boy, he's probably hungry."

Fenris looked over his shoulder at the dog which sat watching Evelyna with curiosity in his yellow eyes.

"Is it wrong to eat the food the man left behind? In his note it said he had been expecting to die, that he had been sick for a while. I don't think anything would be poisoned." Evelyna asked, lip curled in a half-smile as she lifted a bowl of tomatoes, leeks and onions to her face and sniffed.

Fenris arched an eyebrow and scooted slightly closer to the fire. "He won't mind, I'm sure."

She grinned. "That's the answer I was looking for." Evelyna rummaged around through the dead man's belongings. At last she sat a couple feet from Fenris, near the fire, as the wolfhound plopped down between them, curled up. Fenris and Evelyna met eyes, and the elf smirked at him before she began to prepare some food. Fenris stood after a moment and removed the steel pieces of his armor so that he could dry more quickly.

Though the man and his stink of death was gone from the shack, neither Fenris nor Evelyna could find it in them to sit on the bed. They remained on the floor in front of the fire, listening to the beating of the rain on the small roof, to the howling of the wind, which was a nice respite from the wolves.

They ate the vegetables, as well as some jerky Evelyna had left over. She and Fenris both gave Meeko some as well as some bread that was beginning to show signs of mold. The dog fell asleep curled up near the fire, and Fenris sat back leaning against the bed while Evelyna laid out a damp fur for her to lay on.

"What do you think of Skyrim?" She asked as the fire crackled. The rise and fall of Meeko's chest was slow, the rain on the roof steady. At last Fenris almost felt dry, but he did certainly feel warm.

"It's different, I'll allow." He sighed. "I still don't understand your magic."

"What do you mean?"

"Where does your mana come from?"

"Mana?"

"I mean, magicka, you call it. Where does it come from?"

Evelyna stared blankly at the fire for a moment. "Aetherius. Our Immortal Plane, our afterlife. Why?"

"There are people in Skyrim, mages, that have more power than you?"

She snorted in laughter. "Almost everyone, Fenris, has more magical ability than I do."

He gestured as he asked, "So why is it that the mages are not trying to use their powers to manipulate everyone else? To control people?"

She arched an eyebrow at him and leaned back on her palms, crossing her ankles and wiggling her now bare toes at the fire. "They have before, across Thedas. You don't have to be a mage to want power over others. But here? In Skyrim? We would never let it happen. Not here, anyway. I think you still haven't seen how proud the Nords are."

"But you aren't a Nord." He crossed his arms, perplexed. "I know the difference now. I just don't understand... how does this all work?"

She cocked her head at him, almost mocking but in a kind way, if possible. "Why do mages in Thedas need to be shepherded around by Templars?"

"Because mages will always be tempted to have more power, no matter the cost."

"And that... Tranquility Rite that you talked about, do you think they all deserve that?"

"It would be safer, yes."

Evelyna frowned, turning back to the fire. "To never feel emotions... I can't imagine. To feel nothing when your lover embraces you, to not mourn the loss of your loved ones... You wouldn't want your enemies to even feel pain?"

He scowled, thinking of particularly Bethany who had perished in the Deep Roads. "Not every mage is my enemy. But every mage is a threat."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm more of a threat than half your mages, I'm sure, with my damned voice. Should I be tranquil?"

Fenris shook his head. "You aren't tempted by demons to do things that only hurt others for your own gain."

Evelyna leaned forward, hands on her knees, and stubbornly tried to comb her wild hair with her fingers. "No, I suppose_ I'm_ not." She winced as she found a knot and shrugged. "Your home sounds... interesting, but... I don't think I'd like to ever go there."

Fenris scoffed. "It is not a good place for an elf."

She nodded thoughtfully and then glanced at Meeko before running her fingers through the shaggy fur on its neck. The animal's animated eyebrows rose and it blinked at her. "You said..." she began, looking at Fenris almost in shame, "you said that your lyrium markings... that they do things? Did I understand you correctly?"

Fenris' expression darkened as he met her gaze, but she didn't flounder like he expected. "Get to your point."

"What things?" She asked. "You know what I can do now. What can you do?"

Fenris' lip curled in irritation. "Must you know?"

Evelyna shrugged. "You've seen mine."

"If Skyrim is truly as dangerous as you say, then you will see it soon."

She sighed, but seemed to understand that it would be no use bothering him more about it. His shoulders sagged in a brief moment of surrender.

"Very well," he said. "I can rip a man's heart from his chest, or squeeze it in my fist without harming anything else."

Evelyna didn't squirm when he said that. Her gaze flitted over his markings briefly before settling and meeting his stare. "You control it?"

"Well, yes." _For the most part_.

"And the... the pain of getting them erased your memory?"

Fenris didn't realize he was scowling. "Exposure to lyrium causes memory loss in elves and humans. I think it was both the pain, and that. Or my former Master took them from me, which I believe is the most likely cause."

"Why would he do that?"

He snorted at how little she seemed to know, or understand of slavery. "It is easier to have a passionless, empty vessel as a slave than one who can remember their family or how they've been wronged."

"That's true," she allowed. "I'm sorry, I can't imagine people being... enslaved." She adjusted as she sat, pulling her knees up to her chest. "In Skyrim, we take our freedom so seriously that if even the smallest liberties are threatened, we will revolt."

"Even the most proud people can become servile."

She let one hand rest on Meeko's head. The dog groaned a little, and then stretched. Evelyna stared at the fire. "Slavery has been illegal for a very long time. A Dunmer helped to bring it all down."

Fenris shoved down the images of Danarius and Hadriana as they appeared in his mind. He didn't like talking about this sore subject. But Evelyna seemed fascinated by it.

"I bet you'd be capable of leading a rebellion. In Thedas?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You don't understand how powerful they are. Besides, I would never go back there."

"No?" She put another log in the fire. "Even if we can't find your friends?"

"What ship would bring me back to Thedas?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure if you convinced a ship captain that you were from there, you'd be able to talk him into sailing there. It would be a remarkable journey. To be the first man from Tamriel to reach Thedas? He'd be immortal, spoken of as the first great explorer."

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at his new Orcish boots that reflected the firelight off their steel. "There is nothing left for me in Thedas."

"But you said..." she paused, glancing at him, "You said you had a family. Wouldn't you want to try to find them?"

It felt like a blow to the stomach. He was speechless, for a moment, and then his gaze darkened as he scowled at her. "How little you know."

"What?"

He waved his hand dismissively, frowning at her.

"You said that you had a mother and sister-"

"I know what I said," Fenris growled. "All I know is that my mother is dead and my sister is a backstabbing mage that doesn't deserve the life she has, the life I only spared because Hawke told me to. She led me into a trap where my former master was waiting for me, to capture me and take me back as a slave."

Evelyna's hazel eyes softened as they flicked over his face. "I'm sorry, Fenris. Your own sister... really?"

"Yes," he said icily. It shamed him enough for that to have happened to him. He had been so eager to meet her, so nervous and anxious. And the entire time Varania had been scheming, if reluctantly, to throw him to the wolves. It made Fenris sick just thinking about it, thinking of how badly he was deceived.

She turned solemnly towards the fire, looking disgusted. The rain poured heavily onto the little shack, that was now warm and smoky from the fire. Evelyna hugged her knees and though Fenris was irritated, he wasn't exactly angry with_ her_. He knew he took his anger out on whoever was in his path. He had made countless apologies on behalf of his temper to Hawke. He sighed and her eyes flitted to him.

"What if your friends wanted to go back to Thedas?"

He was glad at her attempt to change the subject, though it did not mollify his shame and anger. "It's far too early to tell. On the one hand... those are my companions. They've helped me for seven years. On the other... this... this Skyrim is a place I never would have imagined." He always knew that someday he'd leave, but every day he pushed it back a bit more.

"No wife on the ship with you? Merrill? Isabela?" She asked, chin perched on her knees. Fenris could swear she was smiling, or smirking, but the shape of her mouth was hard to tell in the dancing firelight.

"No," he told her firmly. "Isabela and Hawke are together, and Merrill is stupid and naiive. I would never."

"Varric?" She jested, and Fenris couldn't help but snort in light laughter.

"That's a terrible joke," he said, shaking his head before running a hand through his snowy hair. "And you?"

"And I what?"

He didn't balk. "Do you have a wife?"

"Ahh, you_ can_ be funny," she grinned and stroked Meeko's head. "No, I have no wife, though Aela in Whiterun would be quite the catch. Nor a husband."

Fenris chuckled. "Aela, you say?"

Evelyna laughed and threw her head back before shaking her head. "If I were married, I don't think I would be out doing this bullshit. Living in dead men's shacks and breaking into embassies."

Fenris' lip curled in a half-smile. "It must be somewhat profitable. You said that you raid bandit camps as well."

She shrugged. "It pays for what I need, and some of what I don't."

"And you do it all alone?"

Her mouth broke out into a grin, half-wild in the firelight. But she didn't seem as wild anymore, than when he first saw her. More... untamed than anything. "Not always. You'll meet Lydia. Talos bless her, but after a while she wears me down."

"Where is she now?"

"Waiting for me in Whiterun, most likely. She's my... housecarl. I'm a Thane of Whiterun."

"Which is?"

"I'm... favored, I guess, by the Jarl. For doing the town a lot of favors, essentially. A housecarl is... a servant, I suppose."

Fenris' expression immediately darkened, and Evelyna noticed where his mind went. She quickly began to correct herself.

"I don't - I don't want a servant. But she sees after my house when I'm gone. More often than not, I take her with me when I go out adventuring. I don't ask her to do any of this, Fenris. She... she pledged her fealty to me. I never wanted her to."

He didn't notice how tense he had just gotten. Fenris relaxed slightly against the bed, uncrossing his arms. "Speaking of Whiterun," he began, deciding to leave the prior topic alone, "how many more days will it be, you think? Until we're there?"

"Three," Evelyna settled on the floor, laying down on the creaking wood. "We'll have to head straight through Morthal tomorrow if we don't want to lose time. All I'm worried about are the mountains between Morthal and Whiterun. There are dangerous creatures that live there."

"We'll be on our guard, then."

She smiled and laced her fingers behind her wild hair, looking up at the ceiling. "I think we'll be fine. And everything you've said about your friends... I wouldn't worry about them either."

She was asleep within minutes, and eventually Fenris got sick of being alone with his thoughts. His mind fell to his friends, and what they could possibly be struggling with in the wilds of Skyrim. Had they been back to Solitude? Did they know he was looking for them? Not that it truly mattered much now anyway. He couldn't look for them on his own now, especially not since there was a possibility of them traveling to Whiterun to Evelyna's home.

The cadence of the rain battering the roof brought Fenris into a long, dream-filled sleep. He dreamed of dragons, his friends in the wilderness, Evelyna's wild grin and tumbling hair. He dreamed of the way her Voice rumbled in his own chest as she took down that dragon.

Oh yes. Of all the people that could have found him washed up, half-drowning and unconscious in the tide other than his companions, he was glad that it was her.

* * *

The rain had let up sometime around dawn, when Evelyna's shuffling had woken up Fenris. He felt worn down, but he had no choice but to get back on the horse behind the elf woman, with Meeko trailing behind.

Morthal had been nothing special. They had reached the town mid-morning, stopping only long enough for Evelyna to buy some dried meat, enough to provide several meals worth. She also bought him wolf pelts that had been crafted into a type of shawl.

"You'll need it, where we're going," was all she had said to him.

They rode southeast of Morthal along the road, before cutting more directly south as a shortcut. When they were back on the road it was early afternoon, with treacherous mountains rising high in front of them. Their snow-capped peaks seemed to claw at the blue sky. Where snow had fallen away there were sheer stone cliffs revealed, stretching tall and dangerous.

Their horse snorted as they went up a tall flight of snow-covered, stone stairs, walking beside the hoofed animal. Meeko prowled ahead in search of smells, but never straying too far from them. Fenris' legs were exhausted by the time the sun began to yawn behind the western peaks.

They paused under a stone archway, set in the middle of a high wall. Cages hung from the arch in the stones and Fenris looked up, wondering what used to be held in their iron bars. Ahead were more steps across a stone courtyard, with tall statues scattered that appeared to represent eagles. The wind blew down from the mountain peaks ahead and to the sides, carrying with it a mist of snow. Fenris swallowed nervously, green eyes scanning the stone ruins of what looked to have once been a grand city.

"What is this place?" He asked, trying not to shiver in the bitter wind.

Evelyna glanced at Meeko, who was standing still between them, his nose twitching and tail between his legs. She splayed her fingers on her horse's nose. "This is Labyrinthian." The wind blew her black braid over her shoulder. She tugged her own wolf's fur over her shoulders on top of her leather vest. Even she was cold. Her hazel eyes flitted to Fenris, a quiet anxiety emanating from her.

"We must tread lightly here. There are things even I don't want to awaken."

* * *

**I don't know why, but I struggled so much with the end of this chapter (at Meeko's Shack). After maybe three rewrites, I'm just going to wash my hands of it an move on.**


	7. The Road to Whiterun

**So, it is apparent that I have to adjust a few things to make the Skyrim game work in a story. I've added a few things - like the stables in Dragon Bridge. And Labyrinthian, in my mind, is much larger on the outside than it was in the game. It was, after all, a grand city. The game has to downsize (even though it's a damn big game).**

**I'm so, so excited that everyone who has been reading has been following along. Thank you all so incredibly much for taking out your precious time to read this silly story filled with holes and mistakes. If you spot one, PLEASE let me know. =)**

**That being said, special thanks to Pint-sized She-Bear, Annonimous4862, Cegorach (thank you, still, for all your help!), Golden Naginata and Blinded in a bolthole, as well as the guest. Your reviews/follows all encourage me. I'm surprised people like this story as much as they do, honestly.**

**Sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out, I've been working like crazy, but I will have a few days off coming up.**

* * *

Labyrinthian was a ruinous place awash with stark gray and white. Snow blew down from the mountains bitter and frigid, and Fenris was sure he'd lose his toes to frostbite if it weren't for the Orcish boots Evelyna had bought him.

Traveling through Labyrinthian was a nightmare. Fenris could hear the huffing and growling of a creature he had never heard before. Whatever it was, there were several. He followed Evelyna, trying to be as quiet as she was, in a desperate hope that he wouldn't wake whatever it was that was making that terrible sound.

Labyrinthian had many places to hide - walls, little dome-shaped buildings with archways leading in and out of them, structures that had half fallen away long ago. Evelyna led them through the myriad of the ruins, slipping behind walls and stay out of the eyesight of whatever it was that growled and huffed. Fenris had glimpsed one of the creatures - a thick, white, furry creature with an ugly face and long limbs. Fenris couldn't bear the thought of opening his mouth to ask what the thing was.

Evelyna had wrapped the horse's hooves in hide to muffle the sounds of it walking. Meeko was quiet, looking as frightened as Fenris felt. The elf woman was dead silent as she moved. Their going was immensely slow. They would wait an hour for one creature to move away, somewhere out of eyesight, and then only be able to go a few steps because it would turn, sniffing and huffing at the air.

It was difficult to see them, especially in the darkness of the night that had covered Skyrim. The aurora had come out, though, in its magnificent fullness.

Evelyna brought all of them into a domed structure that had an archway on opposite sides of it. The horse was hardly able to fit inside, but once inside there was enough room for it, Meeko, Fenris and Evelyna.

"I hate this place," Evelyna muttered quietly, the first words that had been spoken in hours. Fenris huddled up by the wall beside Meeko, Evelyna on the other side of the wolfhound.

Fenris kept his voice quiet. "What are those things?"

"What?"

"Those creatures."

"Oh. They're frost trolls." She frowned. "They're very hard to kill."

"They can't be more difficult than a dragon."

Evelyna snorted. "Sometimes, I think they are." She took a deep breath. "In the morning I suggest we travel up the last few flights of steps and then ride hard away, we can try to outrun anything that follows us."

"You can look a dragon in the eyes and kill it, but you flounder when it comes to frost trolls?" He asked.

She smirked. "You don't understand, Fenris."

Even then he could hear one far off, its wild snorting and grunting the only sounds in the bitter howling of the wind. He pulled his wolf's fur around him and was sullenly glad for it. Meeko was warm against his thigh where the dog was curled up between the two elves, his head on Evelyna's lap.

"If," Evelyna whispered, "we do have to face one... try your best to keep it from getting too close. They are very quick, though they don't seem like they would be. And they could easily kill one of us in only a few blows."

"Do people ever travel through here? Why don't some group together to clear out the area?"

Evelyna pulled her knees to her chest. "Sometimes trading caravans will go through here, but they'd prefer to go around. And I don't know, Fenris. Likely because no one is willing to pay someone enough for it to be worth it."

_Hawke would do it,_ Fenris thought. Hawke was fearless and reckless, and he was a deadly thing to behold. Hawke helped everyone. Hawke found mercy within himself where Fenris only found a hot, devouring rage.

Evelyna was more difficult to figure out. Fenris remembered her face when she went toe-to-toe with that great beast of a dragon, and she had almost a calm hatred to her eyes. She didn't tremble, she didn't balk. He wondered if that was the same way she had approached the chopping block months ago, if that was the same face she had when she saw her first dragon, come to disrupt her execution and save her life.

Fenris felt a shiver run through him as a troll grunted not too far off. "How good is their sense of smell?" He whispered, as Meeko raised his head.

"Not very," she replied in a whisper. "But if they see us..."

Evelyna must not have been as anxious as him, because it wasn't too long before he could hear her breathing becoming very slow and deep. Outside the moonlight was cast on the snow, this corner of Tamriel bathed in a silvery ribbon of light. He wondered if the lights were dancing in the sky.

Hours passed. Sometime halfway through the night, Fenris crept towards the dome archway leading into their stone shelter and looked out. The night was bitter cold here, halfway up the mountains, but the breeze had died considerably.

The sky was a deep black, with millions of speckled, glittering stars upon its face. There were no dancing lights tonight, but the moons were beautiful. Fenris looked around at the snowdrifts and the stone walls, some of which had crumbled away through the ages.

All was quiet. Fenris wondered if the trolls had finally fallen asleep. Maybe they could make away for it. Try to at least put this ruin Labyrinthian behind them. But perhaps they would be more easily heard, if all else was quiet. He didn't want to risk it, since they would be more compromised at nighttime than the trolls, likely.

He crept quietly back to his spot against the stones and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

The troll would hear them, he was sure. Fenris scowled as he watched the humanoid creature walk, its great arms swinging as it huffed and grunted.

They all stood atop what appeared to be the last flight of stairs. Ahead was an archway, tall and thin, with the frost troll wandering about below it. The sun was pale and shining against a bright blue sky. A gentle breeze breathed down the mountainside, between the two peaks in which Labyrinthian was nestled, the dip in between them.

Evelyna glanced at Meeko, and Fenris wondered if he and the she-elf were thinking the same thing. The dog would likely die here, the poor wire furred animal the found mourning the death of its owner. Fenris, kneeling on the other side of Meeko, put a palm on the dog's shoulder. It's golden eyes flicked to him, but turned back to the troll ahead.

When Evelyna spoke it was so quiet that Fenris leaned towards the dog to hear her. "We'll get on the horse here. I'll shoot the troll with an arrow, and we'll ride as fast as we can past it. And Meeko," the dog looked at her when she said his name, "will have to follow us. As fast as he can."

Fenris gave an affirmative nod. The fear of falling off the horse was overpowering his anxiety of the frost troll, a tide rolling in the pit of his stomach. But he had no choice, if he wanted to leave this blasted ruin with his own life. He was half-starved, half-delirious with the exhaustion of not sleeping the previous night, but he wanted to survive. And to survive, he'd have to listen to Evelyna.

She crouched low, and took a step back with her eyes on the troll ahead. The creature wasn't looking their way, so she vaulted onto the horse. It snorted and shifted its weight, and Fenris froze. But the troll hadn't heard them, either. He got ready to pull himself onto the horse, and he heard a snort in the distance behind them.

Evelyna's head swiveled, hazel eyes sharp and scanning Labyrinthian. Fenris stood perfectly still with his hands fisting in the makeshift saddle. He looked up at Evelyna and saw her focus on something. "We're alright. Just get up quietly," she whispered.

He did. He had healed from the shipwreck, and was no stranger to climbing or scaling things. But sitting on a horse, he was sure, would never feel second-nature.

Fenris cleared his throat quietly as he snaked one arm around Evelyna's waist and put one hand behind him on the horse's rear. His fingers curled in Evelyna's leathers as she pulled out her bow slowly and methodically, notching a steel arrow to the weapon.

The troll turned and took a few steps to the left. Meeko stared up at them sadly. Fenris winced as he heard the arrow sing away from the bow. He watched it hiss through the air and nick the troll, sticking in the snow. Evelyna hissed under her breath.

The troll looked around for the source of the arrow, and its three beady black eyes spotted them atop the stairs.

"Go, go," Fenris whispered, his cheek pressed into her hair. He hated how riding forced him to be so uncomfortably close to this stranger.

"Wait," Evelyna said slowly.

The troll began to run towards them, its long arms swinging beside it. It grunted and huffed loudly, the massive creature the size of a bear barreling towards them. It wasn't as fast as Fenris thought it would be, but it looked deadly and brutal, with long claws tipping its fingers and fangs in its mouth.

Then Evelyna kicked, and the horse was suddenly breaking away, gaining speed into a gallop. Meeko barked, but Fenris couldn't look. He gripped Evelyna close to him, legs tight around the horse's abdomen.

The horse struggled through the snow. The troll sounded so close behind them. Fenris leaned forward when Evelyna did, and felt the horse move faster. Fenris was sure he'd fall off and make a few meals for the troll. Would Evelyna even stop for him if he did?

He thought he would be sick. He shut his eyes and felt Evelyna's hair in his face, smelling of pine and cold, if such a thing was possible. She was warm against him, but the wind was still harsh even in the bright sunlight of the morning.

He could hear Meeko barking behind them, and a growl or two escape the dog's mouth before it quieted. Fenris hoped the troll hadn't killed the poor dog.

He was going to die here, he thought. He'd die up here in Labyrinthian, and never see his companions again. He'd die without knowing if Merrill and Varric had survived the shipwreck, without knowing what Isabela and Hawke had done after they left Solitude.

But then the horse slowed to a trot, heaving for breath after the long sprint, and Evelyna shifted in the saddle slightly. Fenris lifted his head and looked at Evelyna, and then behind him.

The dip between the mountains rose behind them. On the other side of that rise, Fenris knew lay Labyrinthian. The troll stood atop the rise, beating its chest and growling. But it was far away now, at least fifty yards. Would it attempt to close the gap between them?

"It's tired. It won't chase us any farther," Evelyna said breathlessly. Beside the horse Meeko panted, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Fenris felt relief wash over him. He took a breath and loosened his vice grip on Evelyna' s waist.

When he turned to look in front of him, his breath caught in his throat.

Skyrim spread out before him, vast and untamed. Tall mountains rose on the opposite edge of a wide valley covered in dry brush and pine trees. Some buildings with thatched roofs were visible, but they were far off and accompanied farms.

To the left rose a walled city on the top of a low hill in the center of the valley. A building sat atop the hill, larger than the others, with smoke billowing from its several chimneys.

"What is that?" Fenris asked as Evelyna glanced back at the troll one more time. The horse moved down the sloping side of the mountain before them, dislodging stones in the terrain.

"That's Whiterun," Evelyna said with joy in her voice. She smiled and sheathed her bow to her back, where before she had held it in her fingers with the reins.

Fenris couldn't hear the troll anymore. The wind blew across the valley ahead, rustling the pines and making the grass shiver. He saw a human-like creature, tall and gangly, beside a huge beast with tusks and shaggy fur.

"What are those?" He asked, pointing.

"That's a giant and a mammoth. Don't go too close to them, ever."

He didn't need to be told twice. The horse went slowly down the mountainside towards the valley, Meeko leaping ahead a few times to explore. The sun was still climbing up into the sky. Whiterun stood overlooking the sweeping valley like a king atop his throne.

It was early afternoon by the time they had descended the mountain and were riding gently across the valley. Fenris watched the giants and mammoths with fascination, saw a small pack of black wolves prowling, chasing down an elk with heavy antlers. Hawks circled high above, foxes and rabbits ran across the tundra. The mountains rose in distance, beautiful and snow-capped.

It was hours before they got to the city, stabled the horse and walked through the large wooden gates. Evelyna grinned at Fenris as he stood on the small bridge between the burning braziers. The city of Whiterun stood before and all around them. A woman was working a forge to the right, two children were chasing each other through the streets, guards were walking about and men and women clothed in fur armor and street clothes strolled about, carrying bags or buckets.

"Welcome to Whiterun, Fenris," Evelyna told him as she waved to the blacksmith. "Come, I'll show you my home."

He followed behind her with Meeko down the street, before she stopped at a house on the right and turned a key. She smiled back over her shoulder and pushed the door open.

Fenris followed her into the house, and was pleasantly surprised. There was a firepit in the center of the room, with a table for eating in the back, weapon racks and bookshelves lining the walls. Fenris was drawn to the weapons hanging; swords and axes, a few bows leaning against the wall. Some of them seemed to glow with different colors, but he couldn't be sure.

Evelyna shut the door behind them. "Lydia?" She called out, but there was no answer.

Meeko's tail wagged as he sniffed around the home, walking from corner to corner. Fenris stretched where he stood, and put his sword to rest against a wall.

Evelyna started a fire in the pit from the magic she possessed before she sat down heavily in one of the chairs before it, stretching her feet towards it. "It's nice to be home," she said. Meeko padded up the stairs to the second floor of the home. Fenris followed her lead and sat beside Evelyna, eyes scanning the room.

"This is yours?"

She nodded.

"Your family... where did they live?"

"Someone else owns that home now. It's where the forest meets the tundra."

Fenris nodded. Evelyna stood and emptied out her bags on her table, keeping with her some money and daggers, as well as the axes hanging from her hips. "Are you hungry?" She asked Fenris. "We can get some ale and food at The Bannered Mare."

At the moment, nothing sounded better. Some vegetables and herbs hung above his head from the ceiling, but nothing that he could truly eat for a meal.

"That sounds good," Fenris said, straightening in his seat and twisting to look at Evelyna. She put her coins in her pocket and smiled at him disarmingly.

"Your room is the one on the left, at the top of the stairs."

He would have a room here? For some reason it surprised him that she'd allow him to stay in her home with her, that she'd give him an entire room. He had half-expected to be sleeping on the floor.

"Oh," he said, "thank you."

She nodded and made her way towards the door. He followed her out into the late afternoon, Meeko on his heels.

Whiterun was more charming than Solitude, Fenris decided. Smoke billowed out from the chimneys, children laughed as they chased each other. Pine trees lined the streets as night began to fall on the land.

They reached a small outdoor market shaped in a circle surrounding a well. To one side stood a merchant's shop, and to another stood the tavern Evelyna had told him of. She led Fenris up the steps, nodding to men and women who recognized her.

She was something of a celebrity in Whiterun, he noticed.

Inside The Bannered Mare, a bard was singing and strumming his lute. A blond man with a ponytail, dressed in leather and fur, sat at the bar. Another man sat on a chair beside the fire burning in the center of the tavern, a woman wearing steel plate sat in the back corner with a deep scar running down her face.

She spotted Evelyna and raised her tankard, waving her over.

"Uthgerd," Evelyna said as she crossed the tavern with Fenris and Meeko behind her.

"Evelyna," Uthgerd said seriously. She reminded Fenris of Aveline, surprisingly, with her orange hair. "When will we go adventuring again?"

Evelyna laughed and cast a brief glance at Fenris behind her. "Soon, my friend. I have some things to do, first." Uthgerd nodded and then glanced at Fenris.

"Very well, dragonborn. Get on with your business."

Evelyna clapped a hand to her steel-plated shoulder and turned away, leading Fenris to the bar. She ordered a bottle of spiced wine and three plates of food before sitting on a bar stool beside the blond man. Fenris sat beside her and glanced back at the orange-haired woman.

"She reminds me of a woman I knew back in Kirkwall," Fenris said nostalgically. He always liked Aveline as a friend, and he was good friends with Donnic, surprisingly, who would play Diamondback at his dilapidated mansion every week.

Evelyna smirked at Fenris and glanced at Uthgerd. "She does?"

"Aveline," Fenris clarified. "She was a friend of Hawke's. I was good friends with her husband."

"She must be a strong woman."

Fenris snorted. "That she is."

"So is Uthgerd. But... I beat her at a fistfight."

His dark brows lifted in surprise, the corner of his lip twitching. "You what?"

Evelyna chuckled and nodded as the bottle of wine was placed before her. She poured herself a glass and then offered the green bottle to Fenris. The bard began to sing another song.

"I needed to hire a mercenary before I became the Thane. I didn't have the money to pay for her, and she told me she would follow me if I brawled with her. I did, and I won."

Fenris looked over his shoulder at Uthgerd. "How...?"

Evelyna shrugged. "I'm quicker than her. Not weighed down by so much armor. I left with a broken nose, of course, and some chipped teeth, but nothing too terrible."

Fenris couldn't imagine such a thing. He didn't_ like_ to imagine it, he realized. Uthgerd was bigger than Evelyna, and clearly stronger. He stared at the she-elf beside him, and suppressed a rising urge to scold her for being foolish and brawling. But that was not his right, nor his place.

He poured his own glass of wine and brought it to his lips, shocked at how uneasy he felt just now. Why should he mind, anyway?

"I hope men don't do that here also," he said darkly before taking a long sip of his wine. It seemed to warm him from the inside out, or at least begin to.

"They would, if I wanted," Evelyna said, without sensing his own discomfort. Then she paused and took a hesitant breath, noticing his irritation. "The women here are strong, Fenris. We can manage ourselves."

The man beside her chuckled, picking up on their conversation. He leaned forward and cast a friendly glance at Fenris. "That's the truth of it, for sure."

Fenris scowled at the man, jaw clenched, but the man went back to his ale with a smirk. Evelyna seemed confused. "Everything alright?"

Fenris hummed affirmatively and took another sip of his wine. Evelyna looked away and poured her own glass.

"It's hard to imagine we were outrunning a frost troll this morning."

"It is," he agree. The scent of cooked meats and vegetables wafted into his nose. He felt his stomach growling. "It's hard to imagine why you would be more frightened of a frost troll than a dragon, however."

Evelyna scoffed and shook her head. "I'm Dovahkiin. Dragonborn. Dragon kin." She shrugged. "It isn't difficult to understand a dragon. They can go mad just like we can, they are intelligent. They feel sadness and pride. Their urge to dominate us is impossible to ignore. They're driven by it."

"And you understand that?" He asked with disgust. "They sound like the magisters from Tevinter."

Evelyna shook her head stubbornly, and Fenris rolled his eyes in irritation. "No, they aren't," she insisted. "Your magisters can overcome their urge to dominate. For dragons it's an innate drive. Your magisters are evil. Dragons are still, in a small way, animals. At least... in their instincts. They have an instinct to dominate, whereas I think your magisters learned that desire."

Fenris waved his hand dismissively and took another long sip of his wine, finishing his glass. He reached out to pour a second glass, and felt Evelyna's feather-light touch on his arm.

Fenris shrugged away from the touch, frustrated, and shot her an icy look. Evelyna continued, only her eyes showing that his abrupt movement had disheartened her.

"Can an animal be evil?"

Fenris wrinkled his nose at the question. He poured his glass of wine and took a long swig of it, before shifting his gaze to Evelyna. He watched her seriously. "Do you know what my name means? What it allegedly means?"

"No," she answered, disarmed at the change in topic.

"_'Little wolf_,'" he replied with clear disgust, turning his wineglass around in his fingers. Evelyna was watching him with interest.

"It's fitting for you."

He scoffed bitterly. "Is it?"

Evelyna nodded. "You seem fierce. Loyal, perhaps, to your pack. Among other things."

Fenris felt his lip curl in anger, but it wasn't directed at her. "It was not the name my mother gave me," he explained in a solemn tone. "My former master bestowed it upon me."

Evelyna tapped her fingers to her wineglass, and their plates of food were set before them, with one in the middle. Fenris lifted his fork and stuck it in a carrot.

"I'm sorry," Evelyna said so quietly that Fenris hardly heard her. "What... do you know your true name?"

Fenris cut a piece of the roasted mutton before he answered. "I did not know for many years. When I met my sister... I remembered it."

"What was it?" Evelyna still hadn't touched her food.

"Leto."

He chewed his bit of mutton and straightened, looking at Evelyna. The she elf was watching him curiously, her hazel eyes flitting over his face. The firelight behind them washed the back of her black braid in a warm glow.

"Leto fits you as well."

"I don't know what it means, so don't bother asking."

"You remembered it when you met your sister. What else do you remember?"

Fenris ran a hand through his snowy hair and frowned. He hated this subject. "I remember being a child in the courtyard, wherever I lived as a slave, chasing my sister around."

"What does she look like?" Evelyna asked, a small smile on her lips as she began to finally cut into her own food.

"She had red hair and green eyes." Fenris took another bite and then a long swig of his wine. "Enough," he said, "I don't want to think of her."

"You'll always think of her," Evelyna pointed out, but she nodded respectfully after. He hated how right she was. "Back to where we were... I asked you if an animal could be evil. You then asked me if I knew what Fenris meant."

"Oh, yes," he leaned back in his chair and swallowed, casting a brief glance at the barkeep and the blond man beside Evelyna. "Well," he suddenly felt embarrassed, "having these markings... being named after an animal... I was crafted, allowed to live only to become a creature of murder. I feel as if my very soul has been tainted and stained with the depravity of the magisters. I will never be clean."

Evelyna was staring straight at him, and he had to look away uneasily. Her eyes trailed over the lyrium markings on his neck and chin. She turned back to her food. "You aren't who you are because of what someone did to you, I hope you know."

Fenris said nothing. They finished their meal in silence, listening only to a song sung by the bard about a man named Ragnar the Red. When they were done, there was still food left over on the third plate. Evelyna set the plate down for Meeko to eat.

Fenris had drank more than half the bottle of wine, and with a full belly and a warm fire, he only wanted to lay down and fall into a long, deep sleep.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" He asked, hoping the answer would be _nothing_. Even with Hawke he had plenty of time to spend at home in his empty, cold mansion.

Evelyna shrugged. "Whenever we're ready we can head out to Riverwood. It will only take a few hours to get there, if that. And we can stay at Gerdur's house, or at the Sleeping Giant Inn."

Fenris nodded. His eyelids felt heavy, his stomach warm, limbs tingling from all the wine he had drank so quickly on an empty stomach.

But Evelyna had the same idea. She got up from her stool as Meeko finished the plate and licked it cleaner than it was when it had been served with food. "Ready?"

He felt like he was ready a thousand years ago. Fenris pushed off the stool and glanced at Uthgerd, who was sharpening her sword in her corner.

Fenris followed Evelyna out of The Bannered Mare and into Whiterun. Lanterns hung from either side of the streets. The pines sighed in the breeze. The sky was starry and bright, but again there were no dancing lights. There were no children wandering about either. Fenris scratched Meeko's head as they walked back to Breezehome.

Evelyna opened the door and stepped inside.

"Welcome back, my Thane," Fenris heard as he followed the she elf inside. He reached for his weapon, only to realize he had left it inside the house all along, which put it directly to his left.

"Hello, Lydia," Evelyna answered, sounding almost resigned. Fenris froze. "How are you doing, my friend?"

Fenris looked ahead and saw a woman sitting in front of the fire pit, drinking out of a mug. She wore steel armor, not quite as nice as Uthgerd's, and she had brown hair and a plain face. This was Lydia?

Lydia noticed him, and her eyes flitted between the both of them uncertainly before lingering on Fenris' markings. "I've been well. I heard that you arrived in town."

"Ah yes," Evelyna turned and glanced at Fenris with an apologetic smile. "I needed a hot meal and a cold glass of wine. Now all I need is a long sleep, uninterrupted."

Lydia got to her feet, nodding her head. "I-I'll leave, my Thane," she replied.

"Oh!" Evelyna clapped a hand to her forehead and laughed, and Fenris realized what Lydia was suspecting. He felt his ears burning almost instantly. Even in his delirious sleepiness, the thought of... being with Evelyna... he had to look away. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it briefly before, because he had. After all, he was a man. And he couldn't remember being affectionate with anyone. Of course, Danarius had twisted his ideas on what that was, but Fenris knew better now. But for someone else to look at him and think that... what kind of signals was he giving her?

"No, no," Evelyna corrected, a flush staining her tanned cheeks. "Lydia, this is Fenris. He's a friend that I stumbled across in Solitude. Fenris, this is Lydia."

So she would keep his secret safe even with her own housecarl? Fenris nodded to the woman and tried to regain his composure.

"Hello, I've heard a bit about you," Fenris muttered.

"And you as well," Lydia said, clearly lying. Fenris tried to suppress his smirk, but Evelyna saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Lydia shifted on her feet and smiled at Evelyna.

"I hope you plan on staying for a few days?"

"Tomorrow we'll be going to Riverwood for a night," Evelyna said, dashing Lydia's hopes. "But we will then be back."

Lydia glanced at Fenris and then sighed. "Very well. Is there anything I can do for you, Evelyna?"

She shook her head. "However, we are hoping that some of Fenris' friends come to Whiterun within the next few months. I'm not sure how many we're expecting, but when they arrive, please allow them to stay in my home and show them around the town. I will give you a list of their names, but we probably won't expect to see them for at least another week."

Lydia nodded. "Of course. Should I inform the guards to be aware of them?"

"Please."

"I will," Lydia said with another curt nod before she made for the door. "Take care. Come to Dragonsreach if you need anything. Safe travels tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lydia, take care."

Then Lydia left, and Fenris stepped closer to the fire, warming his hands. The brief walked from the tavern to Breezehome was brisk and it had cleared his head a little bit from drinking all that wine. But now that he was back in the warmth, he felt sleepy again.

Evelyna scratched Meeko behind his ears, and the dog laid down lazily beside the fire pit, stretching. "I'll show you your room, Fenris," she said, moving towards the stairs. He followed behind her.

His room was modest, but he hardly cared. All he wanted was a bed and a long sleep. As soon as Fenris laid down, he was asleep.

* * *

His dreams that night were softer and quieter than they had been. In place of the dragons and the fire, and his friends dying, he could hear the gentle crackling of the wood in a small camp fire, could see the dancing lights in the sky. Evelyna sat across the fire from him, smoothing her slender, dirt-stained fingers over her furs that hung across her legs.

She was the embodiment of Skyrim, or what he knew of it. She was wild, untamed, fierce. She was like him, in more ways than he cared to realize. In his dream she lifted her hands and braided her black, wild hair.

She was alone, singled out as the only living dragonborn. He was alone, searching for his friends. They were both elves, and had faced some type of discrimination in their lives. But Evelyna was kinder than he. She had found him washed up on the shore and had risked her own safety to keep him alive, though originally her intentions were to interrogate him.

Fenris woke up, just as Evelyna put her head in her hands, as if to cry. His eyes opened, and for a brief moment he didn't know where he was. Green blankets were pulled up over him tightly, with wolf furs on top of them. His head was on a pillow. How long had it been since he slept on a bed? He realized it had only been a few days, but it felt like he had gone years without sleep.

The room was mostly dark, some strands of light filtering in beneath the cracks in the door. He wrinkled his nose. Was Evelyna cooking?

He shut his eyes again, wondering if he could fall back to sleep. He had never been a heavy sleeper. Being a slave for so long, he had to wake up on a whim and be dressed and ready and alert in the blink of an eye for Danarius. Hadriana had also hounded his sleep so often that it seemed as if his body had forgotten how to properly sleep.

Fenris cursed the thought of her and Danarius, pulling the blanket over his head. He didn't have to think about them here. There was no slavery in Tamriel. He didn't have to fear being caught and sold to that trade, he didn't have slavers at his heels wherever he went.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks, Fenris remembered Varric saying once, before Isabela smirked and claimed she could. Fenris scowled and threw the blanket off of him in irritation. He'd never be able to fall back to sleep.

He stood and dressed, strapping himself into his armor. The floor creaked slightly beneath his feet. He pulled on his new, Orcish boots and left the small room.

As he descended the stairs he saw Evelyna standing over the fire, frying some delicious-smelling food. She wasn't wearing her full armor, just her fur around her legs and her leather vest, baring her arms and some of her chest as well as her calves. She had even bathed, which was impossible to do on the road, and her hair was still wet and clinging to her shoulders. Fenris tried not to stare as she looked up at him with a big smile.

"Good afternoon, Fenris," she laughed.

"What?" He asked, stepping onto the floor. "What time is it?"

"Mid-afternoon," she grinned. He saw the bacon in the pan, as well as some eggs frying. His stomach growled. But he felt rested.

He sat down heavily in front of the fire in one of the chairs. Evelyna took the frying pan away from the fire, and he watched her step around behind him.

Then he understood why he had been irritated with her last night, when she told him about fighting Uthgerd. It had been a rash thing to do, for sure, but why did it bother him? Did he really have the smallest of feelings for her? Or was it that he knew he was supposed to keep her safe, in order for her to help him find his friends?

Fenris hoped that the latter was true. Sure, Evelyna was pretty in her own untamed way, but he had no business with her beyond finding Hawke and his friends. He owed her plenty, though. Until Hawke turned up, he'd be at Evelyna's side, fighting trolls and dragons and prowling the Skyrim tundra.

The thought wasn't all that terrible, he decided. Things could be so much worse.

Then a plate of steaming food was set in his lap, and Evelyna sat down in the chair beside him with her own plate.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, holding a piece of bacon out for Meeko, who was sitting between them looking at them both with big, round, solemn eyes.

"I did, in fact," Fenris replied. "You have a nice home."

She shrugged. "It's a home." She smiled at Meeko and bit into her eggs.

"As Skyrim is now mine," he murmured. "For now, at least."

Evelyna smirked. "It's not a bad home. Once your blood thickens and you learn the way of it all. Besides, I'm sure within a year you'll find a pretty little lady and your own cabin out in the woods."

Fenris frowned, but he felt a hint of a blush blooming from up his neck. She was more forward than he would ever have the heart to be. But Skyrim was a different place than Thedas, he reminded himself. "I am sure you are wrong about that."

Evelyna smirked at him from the other chair, but said nothing more of it. They both cleared their plates, and Fenris tried to distract himself with Meeko while Evelyna finished putting on her armor. They were heading out, and Fenris wondered if this would be an everyday thing for him and Evelyna. To be on the road more than in a home, to constantly be on the move. It was more than in Kirkwall, but he knew he'd be used to it soon. Not that he truly had a choice in the matter.

They did not take the horse to Riverwood, but Fenris didn't complain. Their starry walk under the bright sky with the dancing lights was beautiful, and Evelyna seemed to know the way like the back of her hand. It felt nice to stretch his legs, feel the crisp breeze blowing across the tundra, and hear the wolves running along the countryside, howling.

It had been a few hours, but at last they came to a bridge, where a village stood on the other side. Smoke rose from its chimneys, lanterns lined the bridge and the town. Guards were posted, only a few, and a river ran alongside before tumbling over a series of waterfalls. Fenris caught Evelyna grinning at him in that feral-way, and he couldn't help but feel the corners of his lips curling as well.

"Here we are. Riverwood. My favorite town in all the world." She took a deep breath and sighed, beginning to walk across the bridge. "Let's go see Delphine."


	8. Blue Fire

**Thank you so much to Arquise, Basia Orci, Cegorach, Blinded in a bolthole, Lanari, Here Lies, Pint-sized She-Bear. You're all amazing, and any suggestions you have, I'm definitely taking into consideration.**

**I'm sorry this took longer than usual to update. I've been working like crazy. Blah. Gotta' get that OT for Christmas (and life).**

* * *

The Sleeping Giant Inn was a welcome change from the short but cold road. Fenris walked close to the long, low burning fire, hoping it would make the perpetual chill deep in his bones disappear. Evelyna nodded briefly to the male barkeep, and crossed the tavern into a room with Fenris on her heels.

She brought him to a tall bureau and swung open its doors. Inside it hung no clothes, to Fenris' surprise, only a wooden panel.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly, an unease shuddering through him.

Evelyna smiled, leaning so close to him he could smell the pine scent of her black hair. "We are going to see Delphine."

He cleared his throat, still a bit confused. Evelyna's fingers splayed out on the panel as she moved it aside with a stuttering grate on the frame it rested on. With the panel gone, Fenris saw a narrow staircase leading down into a brightly lit cellar. He didn't like this.

"Can she be trusted?" He asked, seizing Evelyna's elbow just as she was about to take a step. Evelyna's hazel eyes widened in surprise as she paused, glancing at his fingers on her arm.

"Yes," Evelyna said seriously. "Calm yourself."

He pulled away and frowned at the staircase. Anyone that needed to hide behind secret panels was likely not to be trusted. But Evelyna knew this Delphine better than he, and he had little choice but to follow.

The stairs led to a room that was cozier than it had a right to be, underground. A large table stood in the center below a chandelier with candles made from horns. There were weapon racks, shelves and a chest lining the walls. A table with glowing runes on it drew Fenris attention immediately, directly to his right.

The woman who must have been Delphine was hunched over the glowing table. She was blond, wearing armor made from leather with a sword hanging at her belt. Fenris' fingers twitched, as if he were going to reach for his weapon.

Delphine straightened, appraising Evelyna with serious, but surprised eyes. "You made it out alive, at least. Your gear's safe in my room, as promised. Did you learn anything useful?" Delphine's eyes flickered to Fenris. "And who's this?"

"This is Fenris," Evelyna said plainly.

Delphine's stare was cold, but Fenris didn't waver. He glared back at her, daring her to say anything more. Delphine's eyes traveled over Fenris' armor, and lingered (as most people) on his markings.

"He isn't with the Thalmor, and they know nothing about the dragons." Evelyna said, sounding irritated. Delphine crossed her arms skeptically and looked at Evelyna the way a mother would before scolding a child.

"Really? That seems hard to believe. You're_ sure_ about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure. They're looking for someone named Esbern."

Delphine could have been another person, in that moment. Her mouth dropped open for a moment, clearly not having expected this. Fenris glanced at the weapons hanging in the corner; a bow, a sword with a long, thin, curved blade, another sword, a quiver of arrows leaning against the wall. Who exactly was this woman? Why would she need to be so heavily armed and live behind secret doors.

"Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thalmor must have got him years ago. That crazy old man... Figures the Thalmor would be on his trail, though, if they were trying to find out what's going on with the dragons."

"What would they want with him?"

"You mean aside from wanting to kill every Blade that can lay their hands on? Esbern was one of the Blades archivists, back before the Thalmor smashed us during the Great War. He knew everything about the ancient dragonlore of the Blades. Obsessed with it, really. Nobody paid much attention back then. I guess he wasn't as crazy as we all thought."

Evelyna scratched her pointed chin. "They seem to think he's hiding out in Riften."

Fenris tried to remember Riften on the map. He had seen the sigil - two swords, or daggers, crossing each other.

"Riften, eh? Probably down in the Ratway, then. It's where I'd go. You'd better get to Riften. Ask around the Ragged Flagon, in the Ratway. It's at least a good starting point. Oh, and when you find Esbern... if you think I'm paranoid... you may have some trouble getting him to trust you. Just ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall. He'll know what it means."

Fenris could sense Evelyna's irritation rather than see it. She put her hands on her hips, where her axes hung, and pressed her lips tight together. "Very well," she said, and Fenris could hear the way she bit it out. "I'm off to Riften. Always wanted to go_ there._"

Delphine narrowed her eyes. "It's your duty, Evelyna."

Evelyna sighed. "Indeed." She glanced at the chest in the room. "Is that where my belongings are?"

"Yes."

She stepped across the room towards the chest, which stood unlocked, and opened it. Evelyna pulled out a full quiver of arrows, as well as a pair of gauntlets and a full set of armor. Fenris walked over towards her for a better look.

The armor set was gold in color, and looked feathered on the legs to give one the appearance of a divine golden eagle. Evelyna looked up at Fenris where she crouched.

"I hope you aren't planning on wearing that, dragonborn," Delphine said from across the room. Evelyna chuckled.

"If anything, wouldn't it help me go unnoticed?"

Fenris was perplexed, but he tried not to let it show. This... Delphine didn't need to suspect he wasn't from around here.

"No," Delphine replied sharply, "the Thalmor will wonder why one of their own would be traveling with..." Clearly, she didn't know what to call Fenris.

"What? A friend?" Evelyna asked, her lip curling into half a grin. "They can go bugger themselves."

Fenris allowed a light chuckle as he crossed his arms.

"You know Evelyna well, do you?" Delphine asked. Fenris pivoted, meeting her prying gaze.

"Delphine, let it rest," came Evelyna.

"You shouldn't be off making_ friends_. You have a duty, Evelyna-"

"I know my duty," Evelyna bit out harshly, slamming the chest shut. She moved swiftly, nimbly towards the door as if she weight nothing at all. "I'll find your damned Esbern, Delphine. Good-bye."

Fenris followed her up the stairs, not bothering to slide the wooden panel over the bureau, but instead shut only its doors.

"What was that about?" Fenris asked, still puzzled but trying to keep up with everything. Evelyna threw the armor over her shoulder and strapped the extra quiver to her back. She walked out of the room and towards the barkeep.

"I'd like two bottles of spiced wine, please." She put down a few coins as the man grabbed her the two bottles she asked for. "I'll explain." She whispered to Fenris, grabbing each bottle by the neck whilst trying to balance the armor on her shoulder. Fenris grabbed it, surprised at how light it felt in his hands.

He followed Evelyna outside where Meeko got up from the porch of the inn, down the street and then over a small bridge made of wood towards a lumber mill with a river running on either side of it. Evelyna climbed up the mill and sat down at its edge, her feet swinging over and bouncing off the side.

"What is it?" Fenris asked, almost irritated as he put down the armor and stood there, staring at her. The moonlight was dim, but the stars were bright and the dancing lights were purple, casting a strange, pale indigo glow upon the world.

He sat down beside her, adjusting when his knee brushed against her. Evelyna shook her head and pulled one bottle open, handing it to him.

"I just feel like everyone is sending me on trivial, tedious errands. Why do I have to go find Esbern, especially if she knows where he is? I hate Riften. There's more I should be doing, other than fetching people that don't want to be found."

She took a long swig of her own wine.

"What was the rest of it about?" He asked, twirling the green bottle in his slender fingers. The river rushed before them and behind them, tumbling heavily down the way over ledges.

Evelyna chuckled incredulously. "Delphine feels as if I should commit all of my time to her cause. That I cannot have any friends, anyone more than friends..." She turned away, chewing on her bottom lip. "She is assuming, of course. But no matter who I brought tonight, you or Lydia, she'd have something to say."

Ah, he understood. Fenris stared at the massive mountain in front of him, half-covered in snow, and tried to keep his mind off of what, exactly, Delphine had suspected between them.

Evelyna was beautiful the way a hurricane was, or a volatile thunderstorm across the Silent Plains on a hot and dusty evening. In all the dangerous places. She was pretty in a way that was almost frightening, because sometimes her eyes looked so cold and wild, and her hair would have sap in it, and her arms would be covered in dirt and it would be caked under her fingernails. She was pretty in the way that a hungry wolf would be beautiful, driven by instinct and unbridled, too feral to go near but in other ways, she wasn't. Why Fenris found her interesting, he truly had no idea.

"I don't work for her," Evelyna nearly growled, interrupting his thoughts. His green eyes flitted towards her curiously. Bathed in the shadow of the roof of the mill, she was hard to make out. Only the vague silhouette of her angular face was visible, and it was half-snarling.

A silence stretched between them. A howling started in the mountains ahead of them, and Fenris shut his eyes and tried not to shiver at the sound. No matter how many times he heard it, he was sure, he would never be used to it.

"That armor," Evelyna said quietly after a few minutes, "is what the Thalmor wear. You can wear it, if you'd like. But it isn't as protective as the steel you have on now."

Fenris opened his almond-shaped eyes. The river before them reflected the pale light cast from the sky. For once there was no breeze to be felt, and the night seemed to grow warmer with every sip of wine.

"No, thank you," Fenris said, shaking his head. "I'm no elven supremacist."

Evelyna laughed, which seemed to be rare of her. She threw her head back, and he could see the dim light on her sharp teeth. "And here I thought you were going to tell me that gold isn't your color."

Fenris snorted, and tried to play along. "Well, it isn't."

"Heh," she took a swig of wine, "I'm sure you'd look good in anything, Fenris."

It was an effort not to choke on his wine. He rolled the bottle of wine along the floor of the mill, looking away from the elf at his side. Even in the darkness, he felt like she could see his blush.

Fenris was a stranger to affection. Even playful flirting, which long ago he had put up with from Isabela, completely befuddled him. Fenris just didn't know how to respond.

It was all the worse because Evelyna knew this, as if she could sense his shame. She knew because she sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Fenris."

He clenched his jaw, now irritated. "No, it's nothing."

"I overstep, don't I?"

Fenris didn't answer. For the moment, all the world was only filled with the rumbling of the mountain rivers and the far-off howling of the wolves as they hunted on the icy slopes.

"No," he murmured, taking a long swig of his wine.

She left it at that, and leaned forward, looking over the edge of the mill. Fenris thought briefly she would fall. The purple from the sky was eerie on her black hair. The stars were glittering off the amorphous surface of the river. Riverwood would be silent behind them if it weren't for the barking of a dog and the light panting of Meeko beside Fenris.

"People are very... conservative, in Thedas?" Evelyna asked, staring at the river.

"No," Fenris said after he swallowed a mouthful of spiced wine. "Not particularly. Not where I am from. Moreso in a place like The Free Marches."

She nodded. "And you have no land like... like this?" She gestured to the land around her, the mountains surrounding them tall and snow-capped.

"No. Well... I hear that parts of Ferelden have mountains like these. And it's colder there than anywhere I've been to. Except for here."

"I wish you had a map of your home. I'd like to see it."

Fenris shrugged and took another swig of his wine, feeling light from it. "I am glad to have put it behind me, to be honest."

She chuckled and glanced at him. "You have been interesting company, to say the very least."

"And you. Though I am still curious about your... Voice."

"Oh? Would you like to witness a small Shout?"

"There's such thing as a small one?"

"I can use part of the Shout I used on the dragon. It wouldn't throw you anywhere." She looked at him, and he could faintly see the glimmer in her hazel eyes and the way the light reflected off her bared teeth. "You'd be perfectly safe."

Fenris took a breath. Why would she lie to him? It was to her benefit that he remained uninjured. "Alright, then."

"Let's get down there," she nodded to the island in the river. "I wouldn't want you falling off the mill here."

They stood and moved down the ramp onto the island. Fenris found himself stumbling from all the wine, but in front of him Evelyna didn't seem to be much better. She put her hands out for balance, and her normally nimble and silent steps were staggered and fumbling. She began to laugh as she planted her feet in the grass and put her bottle of wine down beside her.

"Stand a few feet away," she told Fenris, waving him off. She whistled for Meeko, who went padding towards her.

Fenris was anxious. But it truly couldn't be that bad, could it? Either way, he planted his feet firmly in the ground, spread apart, and wiped his palms on his black leggings. "Alright, I'm ready."

Evelyna flexed her fingers in her fur bracers before gripping Meeko by the scruff of his neck to keep him from running in the way of the Shout. She grinned wide, a splash of white, bared teeth in the pale moonlight.

Evelyna took in a deep breath, staring at him, and shouted, "_Fus_!"

The rumbling sound hit him, like an earthquake devouring the small world around him, and he felt like a bull had run into his chest. Fenris staggered into a carpenter's bench, grabbing onto the edge of it. He gasped for air briefly, and put a hand to his breastplate, wondering if any of his armor had broken, or if his heart had stopped beating. He was fine.

"Now," Evelyna released Meeko and stepped towards him, "you have to show me what you can do. When you glow."

Fenris caught his breath, pushing off the table. He sighed. "No."

"Why?"

"You will see it soon enough," he assured her, almost irritated.

"But what is it that it does?"

He crossed his arms, resigned. "I can... phase through things. I can reach your heart, as I've said before, and crush it without breaking your ribs."

"How?"

"I don't know," Fenris replied. "As I've said before, I can't remember a time I couldn't do that."

"And you use it to kill?" She ventured, voice quiet.

"What else would it be good for?" Fenris' lip curled in a half-scowl.

"Breaking in to places?"

"Not a very inconspicuous guise, when you glow."

"No, I suppose not."

Fenris sighed. "I did not ask for these markings. I was given them against my will."

"What does it feel like? Do they hurt you?"

Bethany had asked him that, long ago. He found himself scowling again. "You do not want to hear that answer."

Evelyna nodded, suddenly looking sad in the dim light. She turned her face towards the stars. "I am sorry, then." She sighed and crossed her arms, but he did not want her pity.

"What is next?" Fenris asked, wanting to change the subject. "Where do we go from here? Where is Riften?"

"It's far to the southeast. Will only take a few days to get to, and the weather is nice. Tonight, we'll stay here, and then tomorrow we'll be on the road."

"Are we stopping in Whiterun?"

"Yes, I have to give Lydia descriptions of your friends. Come, there are rooms at the tavern. As long as we don't see Delphine in there, I think we'll be alright."

* * *

Whiterun rose behind them like an eagle on a perch, with a panoramic view of the barren tundra around it. Fenris had only spent one night there, but he had liked it well enough. It didn't seem as cold as Solitude, and it certainly didn't have all those red wolves staring down on him as if he were kin or enemy. Fenris and Evelyna headed down the road east of Whiterun, passing under the northern face of the tallest mountain Fenris had ever seen. Its jagged peaks clawed at the sky, stretching miles above him.

Evelyna had caught him staring at it mid-afternoon, and she had chuckled. "Impressed?" She asked, twisting the horse's reins in her fingers.

"Indeed," Fenris said. To their left the river tumbled over stones and waterfalls, roaring through the landscape. Ahead of them were two stone towers with a bridge between them crossing over the treacherous river.

"It's High Hrothgar, the Throat of the World," Evelyna said, with awe in her tone. "That's where the Greybeards study the Voice." She looked ahead, and then paused, making the horse stop as well.

Fenris followed her gaze ahead, to the two stone towers and the bridge. "What is it?"

He saw someone's outline patrolling along the bridge, as well as another person sitting by the road with a small fire going at their feet. "Those are bandits, I'm almost positive," Evelyna explained, keeping her voice down. "Just be ready."

"They'll attack on sight?" He asked, looking ahead.

"I couldn't say." She continued onward with a deep, calming breath. "Just be ready," she repeated seriously.

"I will be," Fenris replied, reaching down beside him to scratch Meeko behind the ears, almost absentmindedly.

They followed the road down a dip and then up the slope towards the towers. A man stood beside the fire with a kettle at the base of the southern tower. He saw them approaching, but did not, luckily, attack on sight. Still, Fenris was more than ready to reach for his sword and charge. His heart hammered behind his rib cage and he wondered if he'd finally be stretching his muscles today, allowing himself to do more than walking. He missed fighting, honestly, missed the way his body responded to the quick, sharp attacks and the sound of ringing steel.

As they approached, Evelyna's hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she rested her palms on her axes at her hips. It was a subtle gesture of mild intimidation, one that the man would do well to heed.

"Good day, there," said the man, wearing fur and hide not unlike Evelyna's.

"Good day," Evelyna said shortly. Fenris saw her glance up at the bridge, to the archer patrolling it on the high and narrow stones.

"There's a toll, lass, if you're looking to get by."

"Oh?" Evelyna smirked. "And why's that?"

Fenris could feel the tension shifting. This wasn't going to end peacefully. He could hear Meeko rumbling in a low but quiet growl.

The man shifted on his feet, with long, faded scars running down his face. He grinned, showing a row of half-broken teeth. "The Jarl of Whiterun needs to be able to provide for the war, of course. Trying to get some extra revenue."

Evelyna snorted in laughter, and Fenris felt his mouth twitch. She shouldn't mock this man.

"He does? I'm the Thane of Whiterun, and this is the first I've heard of it."

The man's eyes traveled to her armor; her leather vest, fur bracers and pelts hanging around her legs like a skirt made from so many wolves. "You have to pay the tax," the man repeated, fingers flexing. He wore a long battleaxe on his back, and Fenris had little doubt he'd be able to kill the man. But how many more were hiding in the towers?

"I'm not paying any tax," Evelyna sneered, and then there was the sharp hissing of steel as it slid from sheaths all around. Fenris had his sword readied before the man had his axe out, and Evelyna's axes swung at her sides, glinting the bright sunlight off of them as she gripped their hilts.

"Then you can't pass," the man growled. As he took one steps towards Evelyna, Meeko was already leaping through the air. Fenris jumped forward between Evelyna and the bandit. That was his custom. As a warrior, he usually went shoulder-to-shoulder with sword-wielding Hawke and Aveline, with Merril or Anders firing off their spells behind them, Varric with Bianca, or Isabela stepping around, flicking her daggers. He was the front line, always, of any battle, and it had served him well so far.

He meditatively swung his blade into the deadly arc of the battleaxe, noticing the way the man's eyes widened at the appearance of his own formidable enemy. The battleaxe had a different weight distribution, but Fenris had fought and sparred against them plenty enough. He knew where to counter against the axe, when to push against it.

His enemy grunted, surprised, and tried to knock Fenris' sword away with a sloppy shove. But he was too skilled for that, by far. Fenris sidestepped away from the movement, and as the man stumbled forward a couple feet, he rammed the sword's pommel into the center of the man's back, making him sprawl out on the road pathetically. This was easy, far too easy.

Someone, he realized, had emerged from the tower, swinging at Evelyna with a sword, protected by a wooden shield. Fenris knew better than to give a man time to stand, if he was sprawled out on the floor. He drove the point of his sword into the man's back and twisted, before pivoting and assessing Evelyna's predicament.

She was sparring with the swordsman while arrows rained down near them, skittering lightly across the partly cobbled road. Fenris snarled, seeing the cowardly man on the bridge, and had half a mind to enter the tower to find him and push him over the edge. But that would be far too risky.

Meeko circled around the swordsman, and snapped at his armored calves. Evelyna danced backwards, her axes spinning in her hands, almost reminding Fenris of the way Varric could play with coins, or Isabela with her daggers. She truly was skilled, not only with dragons.

Someone else emerged from the tower, helmed in iron but wearing furs everywhere else. Fenris felt alive, useful, exhilarated. He stalked towards the man, who wielded an iron mace in one hand and a dagger in the other. He heard the sharp snapping of Meeko's jaws, a shout of pain, and Evelyna's hiss as her axe buried itself in the swordsman's collarbone.

The new man noticed Fenris storming towards him, and immediately raised his meager weapons defensively. He saw his two dead comrades, and backed away as Fenris gained speed, his sword readied. But the man would never make it back in the tower, Fenris was sure.

There was a quick clash of steel singing out, a heavy, lumbering mace nicking Fenris' steel sword. The man thrust his left arm forward, dagger in hand. Alarmed, Fenris jumped back, but felt the dagger scrape against his steel gauntlets.

Vaguely, he realized just how out-of-tune he was. Aside from the dragon, it had been half a year since Fenris had been in any real battle of any sorts. Already the sword felt heavy in his arms, but he wouldn't slow down just yet. He couldn't. Shame bloomed in the back of his mind at just how he must look, how he felt. He had truly gotten lazy on the ship to Tamriel.

He lunged forward, jabbing at his foe with the butt of his sword. The man stumbled, but threw himself out of the way of a deadly swing of Fenris' great-sword just in time. Fenris felt his breath coming in fast, forced, as he cornered his foe against the stone tower. Evelyna was crouched nearby with her bow aimed at the bridge. She loosed an arrow, but Fenris didn't see if it hit its mark or not.

The mace swung at him again, almost sloppily. Fenris felt the vibration of the steel as he caught the swing with his sword. He kicked in front of him, trying to hook his foot behind the man's knee. He yanked while also shoving the man with his sword, and the man fell backwards, hitting his head on the stone. Fenris stomped on the man's left hand, making him yelp in pain as well as release the dagger.

His foe tried to swing the mace one last time at Fenris, from where he lay, compromised on the ground. It narrowly missed Fenris' thigh, but he switched his weight to put more pressure on the man's left hand before reaching down and igniting his markings.

The man's shock was nothing new. That horrified expression as a man truly realized that he was on the doorstep of his own death. Fenris had seen it so often that really, their faces began to blur together as one. All of them except for Hadriana, Danarius and the Fog Warriors. He would never forget their expressions, he would always be haunted by it.

Fenris knelt on the man's chest, pinning his mace-arm to the man's ribs as he plunged his glowing, ethereal fist into the heart's cavern. Fenris' foe didn't scream, he was too shocked to do so. He felt the beating heart, and squeezed, crushing it.

The man went limp, and Fenris drew his hand back to himself, allowing himself to dim as he stood up. Everything felt quiet, calm. His own heart was racing, breath coming in quick. He was still not fully well from all his body had been through.

Then he felt the near-palpable weight of eyes upon him, and he looked at Evelyna. Her hazel eyes were wild and wide, hair mussed on her shoulders. Blood was smeared on her sternum, and it drew his attention more than he wanted to believe. He cleared his throat, looking away, feeling a blush blooming from his neck.

"That's..." Evelyna took a few steps towards him, holding her bow at her side. She must have killed the archer on the bridge, then. "You put your hand..._ inside_ of him."

He frowned, glancing at the tip of his sword which dragged in the dirt. He strapped it to his back and wiped his bloodied hand on the bandit's fur. "I told you what it does."

"But seeing it... it's different." She leaned forward, too close to Fenris for comfort, to see the bandit better. He could smell the blood on her and the pine in her hair, and he took a step back, glancing at Meeko who sniffed one of the dead bodies. "There's no wound."

"There isn't," he agreed. "You killed the archer on the bridge?"

"Yes," she said, sounding almost like she was in a trance. Evelyna glanced between the dead man and Fenris' markings, eyes wide and almost fearful. "We should search the towers," she said finally, nervous, "See what they had. I'll loot them."

And she did. Fenris squatted against the side of the tower, hoping it would help to regain his strength, while he caught his breath. It wasn't a difficult fight, but he was exhausted still.

He watched Evelyna seriously as she plucked gold, arrows, and a precious stone from the bodies, as well as some food. She seemed to have a method to it, Fenris realized. She checked their belts first, including any sacks on them, before moving on to their pockets (if they had any), and then patting them down, looking for anything that they may have tried to hide.

She evaluated the mace for a moment, turning it in her hands, before leaving it on the road and pocketing the dagger. She didn't even take the time to look at the battleaxe, but she did pick up the arrows from the road.

"I'm going to look in the towers," she told him as she sheathed the arrows in her quiver and then wrinkled her nose, glancing down the road in either direction. Fenris stood, feeling weary, and went before her under the stone archway. He noticed immediately the chest to his right, crammed between a staircase and the wall.

"Wait," Evelyna grabbed his arm and pulled, and Fenris found himself wheeling on her and growling low in his throat. It was almost a blur, he had felt that instinct so quickly. It wasn't something he had truly_ thought_ about. Fenris relaxed after a moment, after a breath, as he realized that he had no cause to react so violently. He was a stranger to touch that wasn't meant to harm him. Even the few times Hawke had tried to be a comforting friend, Fenris had reacted the same, with little progress over the years.

It shamed him, in a way. As if he were broken in some way, incapable of handling himself.

Evelyna, to her credit, recoiled only for a brief moment before wrinkling her nose at him. "There's a trap, you almost walked right into it."

So she showed him the mace that hung from above, ready to swing down. Evelyna told him to give her a few feet of room while she very carefully picked the lock. She gathered up the little that was inside the chest, and they continued their sweep of the towers.

Crossing the bridge, Fenris could hear the roaring of the waterfall to his left. The bridge was high and narrow, and he could feel the breeze sweeping over him. He hoped that he wouldn't fall, a fear only exacerbated when he had to step over the fallen archer.

The other tower proved empty as well. They had killed the bandits, and at the very top of the second tower, Evelyna paused upon noticing a bow laying on a table. She lifted it, and tilted it in the sunlight.

It was a beautiful weapon, to be sure. It was golden in color, and had the appearance of two eagles facing each other, their wings tipping out to where Evelyna would place her hand. She held it up and then drew the bowstring, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

It truly wasn't much different from what she already had on her back. Her own bow was gold as well, but without eagles. Instead, it had some small designs carved into it, and a similar shape to the new one. However, Fenris noticed a very dull red pulsing from the new weapon.

"Is it glowing?" He asked, confused.

"Yes. It's enchanted," she said, relaxing the bowstring and strapping it to her back with the other one. "I'm going to keep it. It will take me a little bit to get used to, but it's better than my Dwarven Bow."

"And this is...?" He asked, glancing at the new one.

"Elven." She shrugged and grinned, heading back down the stairs. "It's only fitting, I suppose. I dress like a Nord, but I should wield like my own kind."

"What do Wood Elfs wield, usually?"

They began across the narrow bridge again, and Fenris tried to calm his nerves as Meeko whined behind him. "Bows," Evelyna answered, not bothered by the height. "Bosmer are the best archers in all of Tamriel. We may have even invented the bow. But you have them on your side also, so I really couldn't go about boasting."

Fenris snorted, shaking his head. All he could think about was what would happen if a dragon swooped down on them now, while they were crossing the bridge.

But as it turned out, their confrontation with the bandits had been their most eventful encounter all day. They camped off the road that night after turning southward around High Hrothgar. Fenris laid down as soon as he finished his food, and before he shut his eyes he was almost positive he saw the black silhouette of a dragon flying high, high above, interrupting the glittering of the stars. But he watched, and waited, and the dragon disappeared behind the mountain, behind the Throat of the World.

* * *

That night they had stayed in a cozy, quaint village called Ivarstead. They had left the town at the break of dawn and traveled east along sandy, cobbled roads. Fenris liked this area of Skyrim with its trees of white bark and golden leaves, mild temperatures and flowing, clear rivers. As the sun had fallen towards the western horizon, past the massive and looming Throat of the World, Fenris, Evelyna, Meeko and the horse made camp beside a glassy pond speckled with small islands and curving with inlets.

In the morning, Fenris awoke to the slight shifting in breeze, blowing the last wisps of smoke from their campfire towards him. A gentle rattle of the golden leaves above mingled with the sound of the splashing of water and the horse snorting. He pulled himself up to a seated position, and rested his elbows on his knees, glancing out at the sharp, jagged mountain peaks stretching around the lake. The sun cast golden shafts of light across Skyrim as it rose into the pale sky.

Fenris put a hand on the ground before he stood, and the sand was cool beneath his fingers. As he stood and stretched, a shift of movement at the shore caught his immediate attention.

By the Maker, Evelyna was stark naked at the shore, with her back to him. Her hair clung to her back, the longest strands stuck to her rear. The water was up to her thighs and Meeko was swimming beyond her. Evelyna ran a wet rag up her arms and then her fingers through her hair, combing out the snarls. He saw a glimpse of nasty scars on her back, like a clawed paw had scraped the skin and dug out miniature trenches in her skin. He wondered what that story was.

Fenris felt a heat building within him, a flush spreading up his neck. He knew better than to stare, so he turned and pretended to fiddle with his bags, trying to make a bit of noise. It unsettled him that he couldn't look upon her like that without feeling_ something_. He had seen plenty of naked women and it had never unsettled him, when he was a slave with Danarius and the magister had hired dancers for parties. The dancers always wore masks and shining jewels, but Evelyna had no jewelry and no mask, and she was not writhing and dancing.

In Thedas this would never happen with his friends (except, perhaps, Isabela). He reminded himself that this was not Thedas, but a land more rugged and wild by miles. Fenris heard the sound of her laughter, the splashing of water.

"Good morning, Fenris!"

Was she toying with him? It was unfair, whatever it was. Fenris growled low in his throat, refusing to look, as he got up and brought a few bags to the horse.

"Are you ready to reach Riften today?" She asked, sounding slightly closer. Meeko began to bark at some waterfowl, and Fenris tried to ignore the way his ears were burning. As Fenris tied the last bag to the horse he put a hand on his face and leaned against the animal.

"Are you decent?" He growled, irritated with himself for getting so embarrassed.

"Almost," she answered. "What? You've seen a woman before, haven't you?"

"Plenty," he replied, running his hand through his hair as he sighed and looked forward.

"Ah, then," she chuckled. "I did not take you for that kind of man."

"I'm not."

"So I don't understand, then."

Fenris rolled his eyes, glancing at the makeshift saddle as he tightened it. "You won't," he replied, running a hand over the horse's shoulder.

"Oh? I won't understand that you're from a more conservative culture. This is Skyrim, Fenris. Life is short. What does it matter if you see somebody naked?" Evelyna said in a resigned tone. "Alright, you can turn around."

He did so slowly, with his eyes on the ground as he moved quickly to roll up his bedroll. "We'll be in Riften today, you said?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yes," she said, buckling her steel pauldron around her shoulders and pulling her hair free from beneath the straps. "Home of the Thieves Guild. Keep your wits on you. It's just as dangerous in that city than it is out here." She nodded to the rolling golden forest around them, the sprawling glistening lake. "Alright, let's go. Keep your eyes open."

When he blinked, he could only see her naked form in the water, the dip of her waist and her strong, soldier's thighs. He couldn't remember being intimate with anyone. Of course, with Danarius, there was a small amount of affection - but when Fenris escaped, he realized just how twisted his thoughts on his master had been, and knew that there was no healthy relationship involving feelings like that. With Danarius, he was trapped with no options.

Varric and Isabela had pried, and come up empty, when they asked about Fenris' history with love. He had gone ten years, at least, without proper affection and intimacy. And he was only a man, with desires that seemed to be aching and clawing their way to the surface.

_Venhedis_, he thought. What was she doing to him? What was Skyrim doing to him?

* * *

**I remember my first character getting married, and Delphine was angry about it. But when I try to look up to see if anyone else has done this, I can't find anything. Whether or not she does get angry in the game, I think it's fitting with her "all-business" personality.**

**I don't know why I struggled so much with this chapter. Blah. Hopefully I come out of this funk pretty quickly.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! So it seems that I may be only able to put out one chapter per week. Those of you who read "Reign Over Tevinter," know this is excruciatingly slow for me. I'm sorry! However, the romance in this story is going to be faster than in that one, which is a bit of a struggle for me.**

**Anyway, however, thank you to Wishfulhamadryad, Arquise, Pint-sized She-Bear, Basia Orci, Here Lies, Cegorach, and Arch-Daishou for your reviews/PM's. It is such an encouragement, and whenever I see a review in an e-mail, I end up going to go write for an hour or two. So thank you, thank you so much.**

* * *

_"Well I walk upon the river like it's easier than land_

_Evil's in my pocket and your will is in my hand, oh your will is in my hand,_

_Now throw it in the current that I stand upon so still,_

_Love is all from what I've heard, but my heart's learned to kill,_

_Oh, mine has learned to kill."_

_- Tallest Man on Earth, "Love is All."_

* * *

Riften was mysteriously reminiscent of the small, jungle villages by the shore that Fenris had seen in Seheron. The rickety walkways stretching over the river, the way the buildings almost looked dilapidated and poor, and the citizens with their sunken cheeks and hollow, haunted eyes. In Seheron he had passed through several of these settlements, much smaller and in poorer quality, where the roofs were covered in dried palms instead of shingled wood. He had burned several of these settlements down as well when he was Danarius' pet, he had had no choice in the matter.

But he had come from a place like this, he remembered hearing. Danarius had made a quip about it once. "_Come, little wolf_," Danarius had sneered with an almost playful tone, mocking him, "_we're going back to your home to hunt some of those feral elves_." It had kept Fenris up for a week, wondering if his mother and father were still alive in the jungle somewhere. Did they live in one of the riverside or oceanside settlements, or in the quiet clans in the thick of the wild jungle? Were his parents hunters, fisherfolk or Fog Warriors even?

But Riften was different, only vaguely similar to Seheron. Riften was in Skyrim, with weather that could almost be called balmy. Fenris felt warm, hot even, as he walked beside Evelyna on the wooden, overhanging streets. Each breath of s soft, warm breeze brought him back to Tevinter, where even in the dead of winter the sun was unbearably hot and humid. He could almost hear the cicadas, the rattling of the palms in the breeze, the far-away rumble of the ocean and war.

He wasn't sure if he hated Riften or not.

"You've been here before?" He asked as Evelyna began to lead him down a wooden ramp, descending towards the murky waters of the canal. They had just left The Bee and Barb, a small tavern with an Argonian barmaid and the market where Evelyna had asked a man named Brynjolf about Esbern, even handing him some coin for his words. She knew her way around the small city, and walked with confidence in a conscious effort, which seemed to keep the hungry thieves at bay.

"Yes. When I was younger, the first time I came here on a bit of a... pilgrimage... if you will, to see the Temple of Mara."

"Mara?"

"The Goddess of love, as well as the source of compassion and understanding."

Fenris glanced sidelong at her, surprised. Of all these Skyrim gods, she would visit the goddess of love? "I did not think you were particularly spiritual."

She shrugged and led him across a narrow walkway to the other side of the canal. Old signs hung from outside of run-down shops, their paint faded and chipped. "I don't pray to _anyone_, exactly. But I believe in the Aedra. I always thought Mara was interesting because Skyrim, and Tamriel, are not places where love fosters freely. She's like a light in the darkness, a calm lull in a storm."

Fenris nodded thoughtfully, hearing the steady clicking of Meeko's nails on the wooden beams behind him. Evelyna sighed solemnly. "I hope we find this man. I'm not happy about going into The Ratway."

Fenris watched her open a heavy studded door, and saw that the tunnel before them was dark and gloomy, and smelt damp and moldy. "These are sewers?" He asked, baritone voice rumbling.

"Yes. And we'll see more than Skeevers in here."

Evelyna was right in her prediction. They encountered some lowlifes, two bandits, and a man with enchanted gloves with a mean right hook that nearly missed Evelyna's jaw. Fenris was slipping more and more into his element, though the muscles in his arm ached and he still felt somewhat weak deep in his bones. He was a force to be reckoned with in these tunnels, a swirling storm of blue and the hissing of steel biting through air.

In the few torches of The Ratway, Fenris could see Evelyna's impressed, almost fearful gaze as he attempted to show exactly what he was capable of. She said nothing, but he knew that she found a new respect for him, in the way she gave him a wide berth during their battles, the serious glint in her eye after they slayed the few enemies they found.

Fenris heard something faintly echoing down the stone, crumbling tunnels of The Ratway. The shuffling of armor, the murmured voices speaking with an accent that wasn't natural to those born inside of Skyrim, like Evelyna's accent, came down the halls quietly.

Evelyna paused before Fenris, and he nearly stepped into her. She listened, body crouched and rigid. Fenris caught the hint of pond-water wafting away from her hair, and though that wasn't a particularly pleasant smell, it was better than the smell of The Ratway.

The shuffling of armor and the voices seemed to be coming closer. Fenris gently shouldered past Evelyna and drew his sword. It was difficult to gauge the direction of the sounds, but Fenris was nearly positive they were coming from up ahead. The dark tunnel lightened, around a corner, with the faint flickering of a torch.

"Careful," Evelyna whispered to him. He felt her hand on the center of his back, along the curve of his spine, and he suppressed a shiver. In the dark, her touch would remind him of where she was in case of an attack. In the dark, a touch could mean life or death, but it was still something to overcome in his thoughts.

The tunnel brightened, and up ahead Fenris could see the flickering flames of a torch step into view. Three figures were bathed in the golden glow of the torch. Two wore golden armor that reminded Fenris of eagles, and the third wore dark robes with a hood. Each figure had pale green skin, and he realized that these were the High Elves.

Before they noticed him down the hall, Fenris felt the stretching of Evelyna's bow beside him, and the familiar_ twang_ as she loosed an arrow on the encroaching elves. The arrow hissed through the air and stuck the elf beside the torchbearer deep in the neck, making him gasp and reach for his throat desperately.

The tunnel erupted. The torchbearer hissed and had his sword unsheathed, while the hooded man stepped behind him and Fenris saw fire sprouting from his fingertips.

A mage.

Fenris growled and sprinted forward, not wanting to take his chances with magic here. In a place where someone's voice could be a deadly weapon, he did not want to know what someone's mana supply and ability could do.

Another arrow hissed by Fenris' ear, and just missed the mage by a hair. The shifting light of the tunnel was not helping Evelyna's aim.

There was a devouring _whoosh_ as a cackling, plate-sized sphere of fire arced low through the tunnel towards Evelyna. Fenris felt the uncomfortable heat of it as it sailed past him, singeing the tips of his hair. The swordsman elf burst forward towards Fenris, golden, winged sword carving through the air, aimed for Fenris' collarbone.

He parried the blow with a small amount of effort. His foe's sword was light, but his arms ached terribly and his vision was compromised, as well as the overwhelming panic of _mage mage MAGE_ ringing in his mind.

_"Zul Mey Gut_," Evelyna's Voice poured through the tunnel, a force in and of itself. The sound of it danced from the walls, bouncing in different directions. The two remaining foes both paused, and Fenris took an alarming chance and jumped forward, thrusting a glowing, blue fist into his enemy's throat, crushing his windpipe and ripping essential arteries. The man slumped, gurgling and gasping, and left one last enemy.

The mage had turned his back on Evelyna and Fenris, providing them with the perfect opportunity to slay him. It was almost as if he was searching for someone, a different enemy that wasn't either of them. Fenris stepped forward hurriedly, hoping he would reach the mage before the man oriented himself.

Just as Fenris raised his sword, the mage spun on his heels, as if giving up on searching for the source of the Voice. Green, almost golden eyes assessed Fenris on a sharp, angular face from beneath the rim of a black hood.

And then immediately the tunnel was awash in a pale blue glow, and it was not Fenris' doing.

The cackling, static violence of thunder and lightning enveloped Fenris' world. He could hear the snapping, almost like the haunting sound of a whip, and the bite of a heat that was so unlike fire in its own way.

The sparks barreled into Fenris' abdomen, completely knocking the wind out of him. It was a burning, intense and dry, and it rippled through Fenris, paralyzing him for a brief second before he collapsed. Fenris gasped and clutched at himself, wondering if his clothes were on fire, feeling as though his veins were bursting underneath his skin.

There was a cry, a hissing, the swell of fire somewhere, the whooshing as the flames ate at the air, and the sweet sound of steel sliding along steel. A crack, a horrific scream, and then the slumping of a body.

Fenris pressed his eyes shut tight. Each breath, no matter how thick and terrible the air smelt, felt cool and clean, the sweetest relief he had ever known. He felt hands on him in the darkness.

"Fenris?" Evelyna asked, sounding worried. "Fenris."

He couldn't find the ability to respond, and when he felt the healing magic seeping into him, he half-expected it to hurt, as it had with his leg. But with no wound to sew together, the magic felt better. A part of him panicked, feeling the magic dripping into his veins, and he wanted to curse her for using it after what had just happened.

A moment later and he growled, putting a palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat that had beaded on it. What a long day it had been.

"Stop," he snarled, coughing. The flow of magic stopped, and Fenris pulled himself to a seated position. The hallway was dark aside from the dying glow of the torch that lay burning on the stones.

"Fenris?"

His breath slowed and his heart felt like it was going to rupture, but it too was slowing, agonizingly slow. Fenris drew in another breath and then found his voice again. He got to his feet with no small amount of effort and leaned against the cool stones of the tunnel before flexing his fingers and then reaching down for his sword.

"Who were they?" He growled hoarsely. In the dim light of the torch he saw their golden armor that made the bearers look like eagles.

"The Thalmor. They've beaten us here." Evelyna shook her head. "Come, if you can, we don't have much time to find this man."

The winding tunnels and a flight of stairs brought them at last to a door, where Evelyna knocked. The door was barred and studded, with a viewing slot at eye-level.

There was a brief shuffling behind the door, and then the viewing slot opened, showing an older man in street clothes.

"Go away," the man said, eyes shifting quickly between them both, particularly their ears and weapons.

"Esbern?" Evelyna asked, putting her hands out to show she was not threatening him, "Open the door. I'm a friend."

"What?! No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's all right. Delphine sent me."

"Delphine? How do you... so you've finally found her, and she led you to me. And here I am, caught like a rat in a trap."

Fenris wondered how many times he had felt like that, as the man's dark eyes flitted between them.

Evelyna smiled at Esbern. "Delphine needs your help to stop the dragons."

"Delphine?" Doubt sprouted in the man's face. "How do you...? This is just a trick to get me to open the door, eh? I told you to go away!"

The viewing slot slid shut, and Evelyna knocked again, sighing. The viewing slot again slid open.

"I told you to go away. I'm not opening this door for anybody!"

"Delphine said to 'remember the 30th of Frostfall.'"

Esbern's face relaxed, a faint recognition fluttering in the back of his mind. "Ah. Indeed, indeed. I do remember. Delphine is really alive, then? You'd better come in then and tell me how you found me and what you want."

The viewing slot shut and Evelyna smirked at Fenris, rolling her eyes in the dim, dank tunnel. Several locks began to click out of place as Esbern fiddled with the door. At last Fenris felt like he had recovered from the shock, and as he waited he rolled his shoulders and glanced around them.

"This'll just take a moment... this one always sticks... there we go." Then more fiddling. "Only a couple more." After a few moments, "There we are!"

The door swung open. "Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable."

Evelyna led Fenris into the room, surrounded by stone walls with everything one would need. Fish and vegetables hung from drying racks, long counters and tables ran along the walls with cooking pots and a keg, bottles of ale on shelves. A warm fire burned in a hearth, and a bed was covered in furs. The stone floor was littered with clumps of hay, for a reason Fenris could not fathom.

"That's better. Now we can talk." Esbern crossed his arms over his chest. "So Delphine keeps up the fight, after all these years. I thought she'd have realized it's hopeless by now. I tried to tell her, years ago..."

"What do you mean, 'it's hopeless'?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet. What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said! The Dragon from the dawn of time, who devours the souls of the dead! No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him! I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools. It's all come true... all I could do was watch our doom approach."

"You're talking about the literal end of the world?" Evelyna seemed skeptical.

"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold. The end has begun. Alduin has returned. Only a Dragonborn can stop him. But no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. It seems that the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate, as the plaything of Alduin the World-Eater."

"It's not hopeless, Esbern... I'm Dragonborn." Evelyna sighed, running a palm up her arm.

"What? You're... can it really be true? Dragonborn? Then... there is hope! The gods have not abandoned us! We must... we must... We must go, quickly now. Take me to Delphine. We have much to discuss. But, give me... just a moment... I must gather a few things..."

Fenris shared an amused glance with Evelyna as Esbern hurried about his room, gathering up some items in bags. Once Esbern was ready, they left his room and crept through The Ratway. They fought a handful of Thalmor with little trouble, but the entire time Fenris had been fascinated by the creature that Esbern had conjured.

"What is that?" He had asked them once the last Thalmor fell. The creature was shaped like a woman, but built from flames with black horns and black structural shapes like ribs and other bones. It was hot, like any fire, and Fenris could feel its heat on his face and arms. The creature turned to look at him, but there were no eyes on its face. Then it floated and twirled, spinning backwards slowly, gracefully.

"A flame atronach," Esbern replied quickly. "You've never seen one?"

"No," Fenris answered, pausing as the hollow, dark realization spread over him that Esbern was in fact a mage. He'd be traveling with this man back to Riverwood, and the man was a mage.

Even just the thought of the word_ mage_ sent Fenris' heart hammering, his palms clammy, thoughts paranoid and anxious. After so many years, the thought of a mage shouldn't disturb him so much. It was wrong, even in a land without blood magic and abominations, for a population to have such an advantage over the other. There would never, ever be equality and peace with such a separation.

Fenris saw the atronach fizzle into nothingness, and the tunnels dimmed and once again became a cold, foul place. Fenris followed behind Evelyna, behind Esbern, and repeated his own thoughts as a whirlwind in his mind._ There is no blood magic here. There is no slavery. There are no abominations. There is no Fade. There is no Danarius, there are no magisters coming to kidnap me_.

By the time they stepped out just above the canal, out of The Ratway, night had fallen on the city of Riften. Dim moonlight glinted off the murky water, torchlight lined the way along the walkways and streets. They ascended a wooden ramp to the main level of the city, where Evelyna announced that she needed to buy some items at The Bee and Barb.

It was already late by the time they left the city, but Esbern had insisted on leaving immediately. "The Thalmor are looking for me. We have to put some Riften a distance behind us."

They each took turns riding Evelyna's horse, so everyone had a short break from walking. By the time they found a small grove to finally rest in, Fenris' feet were sore and aching, and he was exhausted. The twilight before dawn was only an hour away, at most, and the night was dark and silent all around them on the shores of the lake. Just as Fenris was beginning to fall asleep he heard the first singing of a bird.

* * *

Esbern was not much for company. Fenris did not mind too terribly, since he had spent nine years traveling with an array of personalities. But Esbern was different. Esbern almost refused to say anything about himself, and he was always asking Evelyna about being Dragonborn. Evelyna had had to recount her past several months at least twice by the time they bypassed Whiterun.

And Esbern had not ignored Fenris. He had been suspicious of him, to say the very least; asking questions about his past, why he was traveling with Evelyna since it seemed as if they didn't know each other too well. But eventually, Esbern had let the matter rest.

By the time they reached Riverwood, they had been attacked by a pack of three wolves and a single bandit who must have been half-starved to attack all three of them. Both the wolves and the bandit had suffered for only a short time, and Evelyna was glad to empty the brigand's pockets. Meanwhile, Fenris crouched down beside one of the wolves, running his slender fingers over the fur.

He had never truly seen a wolf in Thedas. It was too hot in Tevinter for any of them to live there, and The Free Marches were too civilized. Wolves lived over the Waking Sea, in the cold lands of Ferelden. He had seen paintings of them, heard descriptions of them. They weren't as meaty as the Mabari, with narrower faces and shaggy fur. Fenris wondered if they all looked the same, if they looked the same as the wolves of Skyrim.

Evelyna's laugh caught his attention. He stood, casting one last glance down at his namesake before strapping his sword to his back and moving slowly towards Evelyna. She had grinned at Fenris crookedly, fingers shaking the coins in her coin purse. "I might be able to buy you a horse, Fenris."

"No," Fenris answered, remembering the few times he had had to ride the massive creature. He had nearly fallen off, and that was with Evelyna steering. There was no way he'd be able to ride one himself. "You've spent too much money on me." That part was at least also true.

Esbern had been frowning down at the wolves, arms crossed. His curious eyes flitted between them both. Fenris swallowed heavily, trying to suppress the blush he could feel beginning up his neck.

Evelyna smiled, shaking her head. "Once you find your friends you can give it back to me and I'll sell it. Until then, we need to find something."

_His friends_. Each day that passed, the urgency to find his friends grew less and less alarming, to the point where they were not the last thing he thought of when he fell asleep. If they were dead, then there was nothing Fenris could do. If they were still alive, then they must have not had too much difficulty surviving. After all, it had been over two weeks. What difference would his presence make for them that they hadn't figured out since being here?

Fenris couldn't believe the two weeks had flown so quickly. In this harsh, bitter land, he had found a friend that was willing to ease his transition and acclimation, and he was grateful for her. But he knew how hopeless he was here, still. Evelyna was, by and far, his best chance at survival and finding Hawke, Isabela, Varric and Merrill.

"Oh," Fenris said, baritone voice sounding sad and solemn._ Where were they now,_ he wondered. If, by the Maker, they _had_ survived..._ where would they be? What were they doing?_ A wave of guilt swelled within him as he reminded himself that was what he was supposed to do - find them.

Evelyna flashed him another crooked grin later as they reached Riverwood, her sharp incisors not making her look feral anymore, like when he had first seen her. She was wild, not feral. He knew enough to tell the difference. They descended down the stairs behind Esbern and Delphine, to Delphine's secret room, and Fenris gave Evelyna a small smirk, and it was the best he could manage.

He could hear the gentle sound of music playing, a man strumming a lute, the shuffling of his boots as he followed behind his elven companion, and the quiet murmur of a couple voices in the tavern, the ringing of silverware on a plate.

Fenris listened in the underground room to Delphine and Esbern, and Evelyna's occasional input. Esbern pulled out a book and began speaking about a place called Skyhaven Temple, which contained Alduin's Wall, which may help to defeat Alduin. It was a lot of jargon Fenris didn't completely comprehend, but he listened anyway, and understood that he would be off to Skyhaven Temple with Evelyna.

"Very well," Evelyna had crossed her arms, glancing between the three of them. "I'll meet you at Karthspire."

"Your call. Don't worry, I'll get Esbern there in one piece. We'll wait for you near Karthspire."

Evelyna nodded, casting an apologetic glance towards Fenris. "We'll leave Whiterun in a couple of days, then."

"Make haste," Delphine warned, "we don't have as much time as you think."

"I understand that," Evelyna replied, turning towards the door. Fenris didn't miss Evelyna's quick glance to him, as if she were trying to decide how he felt about it all. "We'll see you there, Delphine, Esbern. Take care."

* * *

Each step towards Whiterun made Fenris more and more anxious. What if the impossible had happened? What if his friends were in Evelyna's home now, all cozy and warm, drinking her ale and eating her food, with Lydia staring at them disapprovingly from the table away from the fire? What if they had found Evelyna's letters, if someone had found them up near Solitude? What if they were in Whiterun now, waiting for him? Or worse, what if they_ weren't_ there?

It was like an ocean of anxiety in the midst of an incoming hurricane. Fenris' stomach churned just thinking about it, at what it would mean if they were or were not in Whiterun. Was it time to man-up and go searching for them himself? But how would he ever survive in this frozen wilderness? How would he ever find them?

His fears came to a screeching halt as Evelyna pushed on the door to Breezehome, revealing a home dark and quiet, void of his companions. Meeko was glad to be back; he padded near to the fire pit and waited, casting a longing glance at Evelyna. She took the hint and threw her bags down before gathering up some kindling and letting a bout of flames spring from her fingertips.

Fenris hung his sword on one of the weapon racks to his right, beside a long, glowing axe. His green eyes wandered away, brushing over the home in search of any indication that Hawke had been there.

But there was none. Nothing was out of place, nothing suspicious. The house smelt of firewood, pine and the herbs that hung dry from the ceiling. Fenris sighed, and for a moment he wondered if Evelyna had hoped for the same thing, to be rid of her new elven companion.

But Evelyna did not seem bothered. She hummed to herself and brought her things up the stairs, padding around above Fenris quietly. He stretched out lazily on one of the chairs before pulling his Orcish boots off, as well as his gauntlets. He laid them down by the fire before adding his breastplate and pauldrons to the pile. He shut his eyes and smirked when he felt Meeko's jaw rest on his foot.

It could have been an hour before he felt a presence beside him rather than heard her. Maker, was she quiet. Fenris opened his eyes and saw Evelyna standing directly to his right with a blue and silver goblet held out to him, a smirk on her face.

"Have some wine, my friend. I'm going to the Bannered Mare to grab some food, but I'll bring it back here. Any preferences?"

The prospect of food sent his stomach growling. He gave her the curl of his lip in a faint smile and shook his head. "Anything besides fish, please."

She chuckled and left him there, jingling the gold in her coin purse. He felt the chilled bite of the wind pour into the home from the outside as Evelyna stepped out into the streets of Whiterun. Fenris threw a bit more wood onto the fire and watched it catch, feeling the heat seep into his bones, driving out the chill and the perpetual "wet" that came with rain in a place as cold as this.

It wasn't terribly long before Evelyna came back, rousing Fenris from a light nap, with food wrapped up and ready to be cooked. She threw the ingredients in a pot and hung it over the fire, sitting beside Fenris with her own bottle of Nordic mead.

"How far is Karthspire?" Fenris asked after he took a slow sip from his wine.

Evelyna tilted her head, looking at the fire. "It's directly west... but the road to get there isn't ideal. It will take several days, whatever we do."

He pressed his lips together tight, suppressing a sigh. Evelyna stood and stirred the stew, humming quietly to herself. Fenris caught himself staring at her and the firelight on her tanned skin, and suddenly he remembered seeing her in all her glory before they had reached Riften.

Looking back on it, he was embarrassed at how it had effected him in the moment. He must appear craven or virginal to Evelyna, blushing like a young boy upon seeing a naked woman. Here, in Skyrim, things were rugged and natural, and no Nordic man would react the way he had, he was sure.

Lost in his own irritated thoughts, Evelyna's words barely reached him. "Are you angry, Fenris?"

He blinked, confused, and met her gaze. "I'm sorry?"

Evelyna tapped her wooden spoon on the rim of the pot. "You're scowling at the fire, Fenris." She grinned. "You're handsome though, even when you're scowling like that."

He tightened his grip on his goblet, feeling the faint warmth of a blush crawling up his neck. What to say to that?

"I was thinking."

"Of?"

He swallowed a quick sip of wine, trying to distract himself. "It's none of your concern, Evelyna."

She sighed and settled back in her chair. "You're a difficult man to compliment."

"I will strive to exist with less offense, then," he said, relaxing a bit. "With less scowling." Sometimes, rarely, he could play along with flirtation, if it wasn't too intrusive. It bothered him that in most instances, he couldn't. That he was a man who could not enjoy the pleasures of a woman, or distance himself enough from his past to allow him to.

Evelyna snorted in small laughter. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it."

Fenris glanced at her and noticed the faint glinting of the fire in her hazel eyes. He looked away, back at his wine and sighed heavily.

"You're a beautiful woman, Evelyna. Does no one interest you?" He acknowledged, refusing to meet her gaze. A shiver of a blush spread from his neck.

Evelyna chuckled and crossed her ankles in front of the fire. "Well, Fenris, I wouldn't say that. And you?"

"I'd have to give it some thought."

"How does courting work in Thedas? Does it take months, years? What do you do? Are all men cold and guarded, like you?"

He felt a swell of irritation. "No."

Evelyna hummed and got up to stir the stew again. He wondered if he had upset her, but he decided that it didn't matter.

"You don't understand where I've come from," Fenris said after a moment, slumping his shoulders and resting his goblet on his thigh. He ran his free hand through his snowy hair and shot an irritated look at Evelyna. "If you had my life you'd be the same."

Evelyna plucked the pot off the fire and walked around behind Fenris with it. "Your past is not the only thing that makes you who you are, Fenris."

He snorted, feeling a growing swell of defiance. "As a slave I was belittled, starved, leashed, not allowed to sleep on a daily basis. Those are not even the worst things that have happened to me. Then, as a free man I was hunted constantly, always running. Do not tell me I do not need to be this way."

He could hear the stew being poured into bowls behind him, the fire snapping and cracking, the slow breathing of Meeko asleep.

"But you're strong and able-bodied," Evelyna began thoughtfully, "why did you never want to... lead a rebellion, or anything?"

"Bah." He waved a hand and shook his head. "There's no point. The magisters suppress sedition through violent means, it is the only way they can keep order. Would you ever go back to a place that did that to you?"

"Hmm. Well, the Empire tried to kill me with no cause, and I still am here. But it is my duty to be here."

He wanted to turn the subject away from him. "That is vastly different." He took a breath to calm down. "If you weren't the dragonborn, where would you go?"

Evelyna appeared before him and handed him a blue bowl of steaming stew. Meeko lifted his gray, shaggy head and stared at them both. Evelyna plucked a chuck of meat from the stew and gave it to the hound before answering. "I couldn't say. I've never been out of Skyrim." Then she smiled sidelong at Fenris. "And what about you? When you find your friends... do you think you will all go back to Thedas?"

Fenris swallowed a mouthful of stew, glad to finally be eating. "No," he said after a moment, "Thedas is falling apart. My companions will be hunted if we go back." He took another spoonful before adding, "Skyrim is... more favorable, however, for me at least."

"Would you stay here, even if your friends went back?"

This was an easier question to answer every time he thought about it. "For the right reasons, yes," Fenris rumbled. "But it is a land without all the things I hate, and I haven't experienced a place such as this before. I'm still attempting to wrap my mind around it all. No slavery, no blood magic, no magisters... Perhaps I will find some purpose here, eventually."

Evelyna smiled and took a bite of her stew before tearing off a piece of bread on the table beside her and feeding it to Meeko. "You are welcome to travel with me, until you find that purpose or your friends, whichever comes first."

"Thank you, if I have not yet said it, for helping me. For everything. I believe you in that I would be dead if it weren't for your help."

Evelyna's angled eyes glinted in the firelight. "You'll know soon how to survive here."

"I can only hope, and hope that my friends will not have much difficulty either."

"I'm confident that they'll be here by the time we're back from Karthspire, Fenris." She gave him a warm smile before getting up from her seat, taking her last bite of stew and leaving the rest for Meeko. Evelyna moved to a wine rack and plucked a new bottle, showing it to Fenris. She settled back down in her chair and popped the cork. "Here, have another glass of wine. The next leg of our travels will not have this luxury, I'm sure."

Fenris watched her pour his glass, noticing again the scars on her shoulder, her narrow far and startling eyes. Perhaps beautiful wasn't exactly the word. It sounded far too elegant to be applied to her, too fanciful. She was vaguely like the Fog Warriors, the rebels that bowed to no one and acted freely with their affections.

The thought dragged up memories, good and bad, and Fenris had to look away. He would always be a monster, would always blame himself for what he did that day in Seheron, when Danarius came for him. But that would not happen _here,_ would it? No one had need of him or his markings here. Here, lyrium was worthless, where in Tevinter it was priced higher than diamonds. Here, he was just a tattooed elf with an inclination towards battle. He was not a lyrium warrior here, a slave fugitive with a heavy price on his head. No one would come for him here, no magisters that knew about his valuable markings.

No one had power over him here.

Fenris clutched his wine goblet with slightly trembling fingers and took a long, gratifying gulp of the nectar.

Perhaps he could truly be free here, in a way he never was in Thedas.


	10. At the Top of the World

**Hello! Why am I so slow writing these? Because I never realized just how ambitious this story was. I was an idiot to start this story, I think. lol.**

**But seriously, thank you so very, very much to Arch-Daishou, Luxlucis85DK, Blinded in a bolthole, Lanari, Pint-sized She-Bear, Arquise, Here Lies and Cegorach for your reviews, questions, watches, everything! You encourage me more than you know, because more than once I've wanted to just start over with this (which was never a problem with Reign).**

**This is quite a long one. But it was late, so hopefully it works for you all. =)**

* * *

_-Earlier-_

"Well, Isabela, it looks as if you've made out pretty well," Varric crossed his arms and leaned against what was left of the wooden wall. For weeks now the four of them had been hiding and sleeping in a house that had been destroyed through some means or the other, with only a shard of the roof left, but luckily still a working fireplace.

Isabela dropped several bags on the floor, and Garrett Hawke followed suit. She was such a different vision than she had been in Thedas, or on the ship even. Gone was her bandanna, as well as the white dress she had worn which had actually gotten torn past the point of being salvageable during the shipwreck. Now she wore the clothes she had taken off a fresh bandit corpse; leathers that concealed more but also kept her warmer.

"I think it would be safe for you both to go into the city next time," Garrett said, sounding exhausted as he moved to sit beside the fire. "We saw elves there."

"Any dwarves?" Varric's golden eyes flitted over the three of them, curious.

"No dwarves," Isabela replied, moving to sit next to Hawke. "But you'll never believe the other things we saw there. What were they called, kitten?"

Garret reached forward and pulled a heavy bag towards him, filled with books. "Khajits, I believe."

"Oh, yes!" Isabela grinned and cocked her head at Varric. "They're cat-people. I promise you, you wouldn't stand out at all." She winked at Varric.

"Cat people?" Merrill asked, sounding perplexed. The poor girl was still recovering from the shipwreck, where she had suffered a long, deep gash on her side. When Hawke had found her on the beach, he had had to cauterize the wound, and Merril could still hardly move without the burn pulling at the healing skin. "What do you mean?"

"And lizards!" Isabela said, nodding. "I can't help but wonder what their children would look like."

Hawke put a hand out as he turned a book over in his other hand. "Wait - _An Explorer's Guide to Skyrim_? Isabela, I didn't know you stole this also."

She squinted at the book in his hands and then shrugged.

"What does it say?" Varric asked quickly, leaning forward. He sat beside Merril, sharing a moth-eaten blanket with her with their feet towards the fire.

"Er..." Hawke opened the book, skimming through it quickly as the others listened with rapt focus. "Brigands and wild animals...'

"Well, we know that already," Isabela chuckled.

"Yeah," Varric said, "thanks to the dragons and bandits and wolves."

"Riften," Hawke continued, flipping a page and ignoring the others, "city of intrigue and larceny since Tiber Septim's day."

"Ooh," Isabela grinned, leaning close to Hawke and reading along. "I think we should go there."

"This is a waste," Hawke dropped the book to the ground and began to rustle through the others.

"Not this one," Isabela plucked one of the books and held it out to Hawke. "_Racial Phylogeny_."

After a few minutes, Hawke sighed and ran a palm over his forehead. "This doesn't help us, either. I think we have to go into the city. Perhaps we could pay a beggar to tell us about this place."

"With what money?" Varric asked. "Our gold doesn't pass here, does it?"

Garrett sighed and threaded his fingers with Isabela's. "I was told by a barkeep that gold would be taken by some, only to be melted and crafted into the gold pieces they use here. I did not stay long enough to ask more, since I was bombarded with questions."

"So what will we do now?" Merrill asked, her green eyes wide and naiive.

Garrett squeezed Isabela's hand. "There's no work down at the docks, no ships are sailing out until after the spring. We can't go far without knowing anything about this place. Besides, we still need to find Fenris."

Varric scoffed, shaking his head at the fire. "Never thought I'd miss his brooding."

Isabela smiled faintly, having nothing dirty or clever to say.

"It's been a hard year for us," Hawke acknowledged, remembering Anders. He still had nightmares of the poor mage. They say you always remember the eyes, Hawke had heard someone say once. It was true.

Anders was dead, Aveline had been left behind in Kirkwall to restore order, and Fenris was at the very best lost.

No one had had the nerve to suggest that Fenris was dead, not out loud anyway. It was a weight that hung heavily over them all, and perhaps it would serve them to accept the possibility, the_ probability_ of it. Though no one could find it within themselves to do so.

"You don't think he's gone to the city, do you?" Merrill asked, folding her arms over herself. She was the only one who still had her armor from before the shipwreck. Even Varric now wore a tunic and breeches he found when they raided this abandoned home.

"As of four days ago, no one had seen him," Hawke reminded them.

"We can't stay here forever, though, waiting for him to show up." Varric's logic stung Hawke in a way that the dwarf couldn't understand. How could Hawke give up on another friend?

"Why don't we go into the city, all together this time, and try to find out what we can? We landed a week ago, and we've accomplished nothing. If Fenris is alive, he was probably struggling, and saw the city as his only option. Remember, we all thought we were somewhere in Thedas when we landed. I'm sure he did, too," Hawke explained, though he had that feeling in his gut that told him Fenris couldn't possibly be alive.

They went back to Solitude early in the morning, dragging themselves up the road to greet the red and white wolf banners and studded, massive gates to the city. The guards regarded them carefully before moving to open the door.

"Aye, wait right there," one of them said suddenly after meeting a careful glance from Isabela. "Someone's looking for you."

Hawke stopped, and Merrill's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Who?" Isabela asked, hoping she wouldn't have to reach for her daggers.

"Hold," the guard replied, moving to the wall, to a wooden board with a sheet of paper nailed to it. The guard began to read, glancing between Isabela, Hawke, Varric and Merrill. "It doesn't say. But you're to go to the Blue Palace, and fetch something of yours."

* * *

"So you call vampires, werewolves and witches 'abominations'?" Fenris tilted his head, perplexed.

A chill breeze swept down through the valley, low and rolling, yellow and brown grass shivering under the pressure of it. A third of a mile to the north, two mammoths lumbered along slowly with a tall, gangly giant behind them with a long beard and a massive club resting on his shoulders. The giant's beady eyes shifted towards them, but he ignored the elves, horse and dog as if they were only rabbits.

"Yes. Well,_ I_ don't exactly call them that. The Vigilants of Stendarr do," Evelyna explained slowly, as if trying to sort out her own thoughts as well. Fenris heard a low rumbling far off and saw the bulbous clouds gathering above the valley. Frozen rain was inevitable, and it would make for a long and miserable night beside a struggling fire.

"Who are they?"

"They are holy warriors dedicated to wiping out the Daedra, along with the 'abominations,' I just mentioned."

"Like Templars?" He was intrigued.

Evelyna pressed her lips together in thought. "Yes, similar, I suppose. But they use magic themselves."

"Templars do also, but it's a different type of magic," Fenris explained. "Who is Stendarr?"

"He is the God of Mercy, one of the Nine Divines."

Fenris nodded, trying to commit this information to memory. Skyrim was an overwhelming place, with all of its gods and godesses, extensive history, races and factions, all with names that sounded funny on his tongue. It was a massive struggle to keep up at all, and when he lay down at night his head would throb and words and names would echo in his mind.

"You could probably join the Vigilants, if you'd like. I'm sure the... magic that you can do would be accepted."

"I can't do magic," Fenris said seriously, glancing sidelong at her. "All I do is tap into the lyrium in my flesh."

"Even still," Evelyna allowed, smiling, "you would make a formidable Vigilant. Or a member of the Dawnguard."

He had heard someone mention them, either in Whiterun or Solitude, he could not remember. "The Dawnguard?"

"They're specifically vampire hunters. I can take you to them. I'm a member myself, actually."

Fenris paused, confused. His green eyes narrowed at Evelyna suspiciously. "And this is the first you've spoken of it?"

She smiled again. "It's been a busy few weeks, Fenris. I've been preoccupied. Bringing you back from the brink of death, being made to go on silly errands to find people... I haven't thought much about them. But we're going west, and I've realized that I was supposed to find a woman named Sorine."

Now he was lost again. "What? For them?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to recruit her into the Dawnguard."

Fenris ran his palm on his cheek, thinking. "Vampires... those are the things that see our kind as entertainment, and think they're superior to everything?"

"That sounds more like the Daedra," Evelyna mused. "And not all Daedra are good, or evil. Vampires are... they're creatures that were human, but they became diseased and now they're undead. They're ugly things; pale, with teeth sharper than mine, whose eyes look crazed when they're hungry. They don't age, and they can't step into sunlight because it burns their skin. They feed off of blood, and they'll kill our kind to get it. If they bite you, you can become one of them. And I don't believe there is any cure."

Fenris frowned at the thought of such creatures. "They hunt us?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yes. They're getting bold, also. I've seen them attack Morthal. Just a small band of them, but they are really difficult to kill. Would you think about joining them? You said you were looking for a purpose here. It's as noble cause as any, more than most, I suppose."

"If you think I would do something because it's noble, you're sadly mistaken," Fenris told her, lip curling in half a smirk. Evelyna grinned back at him, amused.

"What drives you, then?"

"What do you mean?"

Evelyna tilted her head, looking out at the low valley around them. "Passion, honor, duty, loyalty, greed...? It's an endless list, really."

"Necessity," Fenris growled, being mostly honest. "Survival, freedom. Those are what drive me. Once, long ago, I wanted more from life. But that has been too much to ask for, I think."

Evelyna seemed startled by his quiet confession hidden in his words. Her hazel eyes flitted over him slowly, searching for something that he knew wasn't there any longer.

"Could you elaborate?" She dared to ask, holding the horse's reins lazily in her slender fingers. Fenris noticed the way the wind ruffled the pelts hanging around her hips, the way her leather vest showed more of her woman's figure than he needed to know she had.

Fenris wrinkled his nose, turning his stony gaze ahead. "What does anyone want out of life?"

Evelyna thought on this a moment, taking the bait. "Happiness, love, family, security."

"Indeed."

Evelyna pressed her lips tight together in consideration. Another long, low rumble sounded from the west, the storms rolling in, that apparently signaled the beginning of a mild summer. _Would Hawke have shelter tonight?,_ Fenris vaguely wondered.

"And you've pursued those things, I hope."

"That was my point, yes."

"And what happened?"

"I told you about my sister."

"Yes," she remembered, still watching him sadly. "And what of love? You pursued that as well?"

"Well, no, I suppose not."

"So you've... what do you mean?"

Fenris' fingers twitched, and he felt a pulse of anxiety through his skin. The first few raindrops began to fall on the tundra. Fenris could hear a complaining groan from the giant so far off.

"There may have been someone, before, but I've lost all of my memories, and alas, I'll never know."

"Did you ever search?"

Fenris scowled darkly. "After I met my sister, I did not think anyone from my past would be worth the time."

Evelyna nodded, taking a long and deep breath and tilting her angled face towards the sky. Raindrops slid down her tan cheeks, on top of her eyelids and brow, and dripped down her upper chest.

"You have a lot of courage," Evelyna said finally. "For even meeting your sister like that. For letting her live."

"That was not entirely my choice."

"It was, though." He somehow knew that she was right, though he didn't want to acknowledge it.

When Fenris said nothing in return, Evelyna blinked and rubbed the rain from her face, looking at Fenris cautiously. "So what would you think about the Dawnguard?"

Fenris snorted and rolled his eyes. "I would have to think about it."

"Vampires use magic, as well as weapons. I know that you abhor magic... perhaps it would be good for you." Then she smiled sweetly, flashing her white teeth, black hair looking like a dark lion's mane around her head. "I get the idea that you haven't come to grips with the_ evil_ in Skyrim."

"No, I don't think I have," Fenris allowed, looking away. "I never would have suspected a place such as this existed. With cat-people, lizard-people and blood-drinking undead."

"You make it sound unappealing when you put it like that."

"I just... in Thedas, I always hated something. I had a purpose in doing so, in trying to convince Hawke to turn on the mages, I had a reason to run until I killed Danarius. Here, there are no magisters and there is no slavery. It's an empty part of me."

"You can help me fight the dragons, Fenris. They would still enslave us."

He crossed his arms and thought on this for a moment. "I will, for now, yes. They are the closest things to what I know, perhaps."

She smirked at him then, eyes dancing with delight and mischief. "And there are still plenty of things to hate here, if that is really what you need. Though I doubt it is. I think you need something a bit more basic to an elf's needs."

* * *

Western Skyrim was a cold, uninviting place. Fenris watched as the tundra gave way to jagged, steep slopes that rose on either side of the road, climbing high towards a sky clouded in fog. Mountain goats dared traverse these hills, and dark birds flew high above. The hint of torches and fires were visible from the road, high up and nestled in the mountains. The road led them along a clear river of tumbling waterfalls that drowned out most of the sounds. But nothing could drown out the roar of a dragon.

They had first heard it far off to the west. The vocals rang and echoed off the stony landscape, seeming to dance its way to their ears. It was not a welcome sound by any means. Evelyna had taken the time to pause and listen, hazel eyes focused intently ahead, before she cleared her throat and explained, "We've still a few miles to go before we meet him."

Every step was counter-intuitive. Fenris wanted to turn back, more and more as the roaring grew louder and closer. But Evelyna was not frightened, and if she was, she didn't show it. She led him onward, bow readied and held against her hip.

When they came upon a mountain nestled on an island between the rivers, Fenris noticed the dragon before he saw the barbarian settlement built above the flowing water. The dragon was green, with a flattened tail and thin wings, and a tall ridge of webbed spikes on its back. It was on the slope of the mountain, storming towards the settlement.

Barbarians clothed in fur and antler-helms charged towards the dragon, bellowing and brandishing their weapons built with teeth and feathers. Fenris crouched instinctively, placing himself behind a boulder to hide.

Evelyna had other plans, however. She aimed her arrow at the dragon and then cursed. "We're too far. Oh!"

Fenris saw her staring in horror to her right, and he turned to look. Down below towards the right, in a ditch was a camp, with a wretched creature stalking towards the settlement. It was a pale, emaciated thing with long gnarled claws, a big nose and black eyes. It wore a gown of feathers, and looked like a vulture, and had arms that bent almost like a bird's.

"That's a hagraven. Be careful," Evelyna warned, putting a hand on Fenris' shoulder. "They have magic."

She aimed her arrow at the creature, and Fenris grabbed Meeko by the scruff of his neck to keep him from running off and drawing attention. The hagraven was focused on something ahead of it, and shot a ball of cool blue ice from its clawed hands just as Evelyna loosed an arrow. The arrow whirred through the air and struck the ghastly creature in the ribcage.

Evelyna was readying another arrow as the hagraven's black eyes found her. Fenris found his breath catching in his throat, his hands growing clammy, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. A cloud of snow and ice began to gather in the creature's hands, but it didn't see the plate-sized fireball soaring through the air towards it.

The fire exploded on impact, and the hagraven screamed, wailing in pain as the fire engulfed its feathered robes and seared its skin.

"Esbern?!" Evelyna's voice was shocked and thrilled, and Fenris saw the atronach appear in sight. The beautiful, feminine creature of flames loosed another fireball, and the hagraven was distraught, trying to put out the flames on its body. Its screams pierced the air, and Fenris winced at the awful, haunting sound.

As the hagraven burned and died, Fenris saw Esbern and Delphine down in the settlement made of sticks. The barbarians were distracted with loosing their arrows at the dragon, and many of them fell to Esbern and Delphine's respective magic and sword before knowing they were under attack by someone else.

The dragon snapped at a handful of barbarians, and Evelyna threw herself from out behind the rocks. "Come on, Fenris!"

He let go of Meeko and ran after her, his heart and feet both pounding. They sprinted down the slope towards the island and the settlement, charging as if to war. He supposed that in a way, he _was_ going to war.

There was a brief moment of clarity, of amazement that overcame Fenris as he sprinted onto the odd, rickety wooden bridges of the settlement. Evelyna was in front of him, the furs on her legs flapping as she ran, hair bouncing against her back. Meeko sprinted beside her, passing her, his nails clicking frantically on the wood, slaver running from his jaws. Delphine swung her sword into the back of a barbarian, and Esbern shot magic from his fingers at the dragon. Fenris realized that he would take Evelyna up on her offer to bring him to the Dawnguard, that he would also stay and fight this battle with her against the dragons, because he could truly have a purpose here in a way he never had in Thedas.

In Thedas he had only began to follow Hawke because he owed him a debt for his help. As time passed and the years went by, he had found no other purpose other than his friends were the closest thing he would ever have to a family. Sure, he missed them and wished them well, and he would find them or die trying. But there was no reason to grieve for them yet, no reason to pity himself for being alone in the world. He had always been alone, and even if he stayed in Thedas, he'd leave Hawke's side eventually.

There was strife here, and opportunity to grow through all the disaster. The dragons would enslave everyone if they could, and Fenris knew there would be something gratifying about having a part in preventing that from happening, along the side of the very Dragonborn.

His thoughts fell back into place, into the present, back into the terrifying sequence of reality as he felt a cold wind on his face, drying out the sweat. The dragon lifted itself into the air with enormous strength, the great beating of its massive wings loud and powerful. Evelyna called out to Esbern and Delphine, announcing her presence as she loosed an arrow at the beast in the sky.

Fenris didn't see whether the arrow struck its mark. He nearly tripped over a female body clothed barely in hide and fur, a hood of antlers pulled away from a face, choking the woman's neck. He felt his stomach churn at the sight of the gash in her side.

But the hollering of a man not far from them drew away his attention. Somewhere in the settlement the boardwalk was on fire, and the barbarians who were left that lived there were finally realizing that they were not only under attack by the dragon, but by four others and a dog. They dared to turn their attack, ignoring the haunting cry of the green dragon as it circled above.

Esbern conjured a new flame atronach, and the singing sound of it appearing could be heard from where Fenris stood. He saw its fireballs sail through the air, destroying what remained of the barbarians, before turning its attack to the dragon.

A pair of wild, fierce eyes swept across the four of them as the dragon came crashing into the ground against the sloping mountain. Rocks were dislodged and sent tumbling into the river or walkways, snapping the wood. The dragon charged towards them, and Fenris stopped breathing as he faced his foe. Its gaping maw opened before snapping shut only several feet from Fenris.

_"Wuld_!"

Evelyna moved in a flash, suddenly finding herself beside the dragon's back legs. She didn't run that distance, but had been propelled by her own Voice. Fenris saw her swing both axes into the dragon's leg, cutting through the scaled hide of the animal. The dragon swung its massive green head towards her, screaming out in pain.

Fenris drove forward with Delphine at his side, sickened by the thought that once it would have been Aveline, arching his sword high above his head and bringing it down with all his strength. The blade lodged itself deep in the dragon's neck, and the strangled cry that came out of the animal's jaws would remain in his mind forever.

With a twitch and a brief cry, the dragon slumped heavily to the ground, its limbs folding under its weight.

Then the storm happened again, the whirlwind of glowing, golden energy emanating outwards from the dragon's corpse. Evelyna plucked her axes from the dragon's thigh, as Fenris did the same with his own sword. He looked across at her hopefully, as if he could understand more of this... transfer of energy, of the dragon's soul, by watching more closely.

The energy, the soul, seemed to sing as it lifted into the air and arched over towards Evelyna, swirling around her body before seeping into her skin. The dragon's scales, its entire body, sloughed off and seemed to disappear completely, leaving behind an entire, bone-white skeleton with teeth, claws and empty eye sockets in a massive skull. All the world seemed to grow quiet as the last of the soul was absorbed, and Evelyna wiped the blood from her arms and face, squinting and frowning.

"I feel as if I see more of them every day," she complained, wiping her mouth on her fur bracers.

"You are," Delphine replied seriously, glancing at Fenris and Meeko, who also was covered in blood in his shaggy fur. Fenris vaguely realized that they had completely left the horse behind, untied to anything. "Come," Delphine said, "We're about there."

* * *

Inside Karthspire lived more of the barbarians, or "Forsworn," as Evelyna explained as they died. After killing the first two and traveling through a musty tunnel, they came to an open area with carved stone pillars. Evelyna had played around with the three pillars, and lined them all up to show the "Dragonborn" symbol. Fenris had watched in quiet awe as a stone bridge fell down to grant the four of them passage, covered in ivy.

That had not been their only puzzle to solve. Next was a room with pressure plates. Evelyna had crossed it, dodging a stream of fire, and yanked desperately on a chain across the room. It had disabled the trap, and everyone was able to cross safely. Across another bridge, and through a short tunnel, they found an open room with a chest in its center. Opposite of them a bald face was carved in the wall, staring at them blankly with dark, hollow eyes. The room was eerie and old, and Fenris felt uneasy here.

"Wonderful! Remarkably preserved, too!" Esbern said admirably, walking across the room. Fenris followed Evelyna to the chest, which she opened, breaking the cobwebs that had gathered there. Inside she found money, an enchanted ring, and a long battleaxe that she ignored.

"Here," she gave Fenris the ring, "this should help you if you grow weary, I think."

He examined it closely, but slid it on as Esbern continued speaking. "Ah, here is the blood seal," Esbern began. "Another of the lost Akaviri arts. No doubt triggered by... well, blood."

Fenris held his breath, frowning. The pit of his stomach seemed to fall, and he stared at Esbern, waiting for him to continue. If Esbern said the words "blood magic," Fenris was surely going to lose it.

"Your blood, Dragonborn," Esbern looked over his broad shoulder at Evelyna, whose hazel eyes widened in concern. Fenris growled in the back of his throat disapprovingly, fingers twitching. "Look here, you see how the ancient Blades revered in Cyrodiil. This whole place used to be a shrine to Reman. He ended the Akaviri invasion under mysterious circumstances, you recall."

"Try dripping blood on the carving in the floor," Delphine suggested, interrupting.

Evelyna gazed solemnly at the carving in the ground, oblivious to Fenris' rage. "You said there was no blood magic here," he snarled, not caring who heard him. He stalked towards her threateningly, startling her as she pulled a dagger from her belt, deep in thought.

Evelyna paused, confused. "Fenris?"

"What is this if it isn't blood magic?" He snarled fiercely, and was vaguely aware of Delphine walking towards him.

"Fenris," Evelyna said slowly in warning, pushing the high end of her bracer down her arm to expose her skin. "Step back. This isn't what you know, or what you think it is."

A hand closed on his elbow, and he shrugged out of the grip, growling. At least he had enough control to keep from igniting his markings in front of delphine and Esbern.

"There are no demons here, Fenris," Evelyna explained, waving Delphine off. "Only the Daedra. They aren't tempted by my blood. Step back."

She knelt on one knee, casting one last glance at him, and dragged her dagger across her arm, just enough to break the skin. As she waited for the blood to drip, Esbern continued, but Fenris could not pay attention to whatever he was saying. His heart was pounding, he thought his teeth would break under the pressure of his jaw. He reached for his sword in anticipation, and did not see any abominations, any demons rising from the corners.

When her blood dripped onto the floor, the carving glowed bright and white, like the sun, and the face in the wall pulled back; a secret door opening for them.

"That's it!" Delphine said happily, in awe. "After you, Dragonborn. You should have the honor of being the first to set foot in Sky Haven Temple."

She looked at Delphine, and then flitted her gaze to Fenris sadly. "See?" She mouthed to him, eyes solemn and weary.

"There's no telling what we might find inside," Esbern declared, lighting his torch, casting a wary glance at Fenris.

Evelyna led the way through the new door and up a flight of stairs. At the top, she pushed open a set of heavy doors, revealing more stairs curving towards the right. Fenris followed behind, ashamed at his behavior and accusation, but also angry with Evelyna still. It wasn't the typical blood magic he knew, but it was still blood magic on some level. Fenris reminded himself of why he hated blood magic, and tried to settle in telling himself that no one was hurt, no demons tempted._ This was different_, he found his thoughts repeating._ This is safer._

"Fascinating! Original Akaviri bas-reliefs! Almost entirely intact!" Esbern paused to look at a wall in the tunnel. "Amazing. You can see how the Akaviri craftsmen were beginning to embrace the more flowing Nordic style."

"We're here for Alduin's wall, right, Esbern?" Delphine asked, annoyed. Evelyna didn't smile nor smirk as she continued.

"Yes, of course. We'll have more time to look around later, I suppose. Let's see what's up ahead."

They rounded through the curve and came upon a massive room with huge holes in the great stone ceiling, letting in the sunlight through wide shafts. It was breath-taking, and a bit distracting. Fenris' heart was still pounding from the catastrophe in the last room. He paused, however, to take a look at a tall, long wall to the right carved with intricate images. A table carved from the very floor stretched far to the left, and two wide staircases of stone rose on either side of the massive hall.

"Shor's bones! Here it is! Alduin's wall... so well preserved. I've never seen a finer example of second era Akaviri sculptural relief..."

"Esbern, we need information, not a lecture on art history."

"Yes, yes. Let's see what we have here." Esbern stopped before the wall, and Fenris crossed his arms, staring at it. The wall seemed to portray war between dragons and men. Esbern began at the left end of the wall, explaining the images and how Alduin ruled over Skyrim with the Dragon Cult. He talked about a rebellion, Alduin's defeat, people using the Voice.

"So we're looking for a Shout, then? Damn it," Delphine sighed in irritation. "Have you ever heard of such a thing? Of a Shout that can pull a dragon from the sky?"

Evelyna chewed on her bottom lip in thought. "No, I've never heard of anything like that."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. I guess there's nothing for it. We'll have to ask the Greybeards for help. I had hoped not to involve them in this, but we have no choice."

Evelyna's brow furrowed, and Fenris saw her wipe her bloodied arm on her furs. "What do you have against the Greybeards?" Evelyna asked defensively.

"If they had their way, you'd do nothing but sit up on their mountain with them and talk to the sky, or whatever it is they do. They are so afraid of power that they won't use it. Think about it. Have they tried to stop the Civil War, or do anything about Alduin. No. They're afraid of you, of your power. Trust me, there's no need to be afraid. Think of Tiber Septim. Do you think he'd have founded the Empire if he'd have listened to the Greybeards?"

Evelyna looked almost distressed for a moment. "The Greybeards may have a point. Power is dangerous."

Fenris felt eternally glad that she had said that. Delphine, though, felt otherwise.

"Only if you don't know how to use it. All the great heroes have had to learn how to use it. Those that shrank from their destiny... you've never heard of them, have you? And there are the villains, those that misused their power. There's always a choice, and there's always a risk. But if you live in fear of what might go wrong, you'll end up with nothing. Like the Greybeards, up on their mountain."

Evelyna's brow furrowed, and Fenris could tell she wasn't happy. "I'd better go see what Arngeir knows about this Shout."

"Right. Good thing they've already let you into their little cult. Not likely they'd help Esbern or me if we came calling. We'll look around Sky Haven Temple. It's a good hide out. Talos guide you."

* * *

Evelyna's irritation was palpable as she stormed forward, up the stairs they had yet to climb. She shoved forward the doors, and Fenris found them on top of the mountain, with a pretty stone courtyard overlooking what seemed to be the rest of Skyrim. Jagged gray peaks clawed at the sky, which was a pale pink and blue with the sunset. Fires burned in the mountains from tribal clans, lights from villages were visible, and the world was void of a dragon's roaring.

Evelyna's scowl disappeared as she absorbed the beautiful view, taking a chance to pause and look all around her.

Meeko went ahead, sniffing the yard. The wind here was frigid, but it was a pleasant change from the stuffy temple's tunnels.

"What were you going to do, in there?" Evelyna asked, turning on her heel. Her hazel eyes were narrowed at him, and Fenris felt himself swallow noisily.

"You lied to me," he growled. "You said there was no blood magic here."

She threw her hands up, incredulous. "I've never even heard of a carving that could identify my blood, Fenris!" She shook her head, black hair sticking to the blood that had caked on her chest. "What does it matter now?"

Fenris' lip curled in anger. "You don't understand what I've been through," he snarled darkly, "You don't understand what blood magic is, where I am from. My former master would kill even little children through blood magic, for a sliver more of power. When mages bleed themselves in Thedas, they tempt demons. Once they bend to the will of these demons, there is_ no_ going back. They become abominations, and are incredibly powerful and hard to kill. They are evil, vile creatures that_ must_ be slain. They prey on others. This magic with the carving, it is still blood magic, though of a different sort."

Evelyna took a step towards him defiantly. "I tempted nothing today, Fenris. We don't have demons, we don't have abominations beside vampires, werewolves and the Daedra." She sighed, and put her fingers to her temples, massaging them.

Fenris suddenly felt ashamed, again. "I know," he said, lowering his voice. "It is still a change for me. It will take adjusting."

She opened her eyes and looked at Fenris sadly. "I'm sorry for what's happened to you, Fenris. I really am."

He frowned and waved at her dismissively. "You'll never understand. I... I don't see how our two... our two worlds can exist across the same sea, and yet be so different."

To that she said nothing. The wind blew over the top of the mountain, and Fenris shivered under the breeze. Evelyna turned away, looking around at Skyrim and its wild, natural beauty.

"Perhaps we will find out. We should rest here, tonight, I think," she said after some time, sounding exhausted. "And then, I believe, it's off to High Hrothgar with us. After we find that Sorine woman and send her off to the Dawnguard."

* * *

It was not long during their ascent up High Hrothgar that Fenris realized why Evelyna had brought so many furs and blankets. The wind howled down the mountain, snow blasting down the path that spiraled up the steep slope. Fenris was constantly shivering and pulling his wolf pelts tighter around his body. His breath misted before him, and his eyelashes and hair had ice on them.

Evelyna was not much better off. Her black hair was streaked with snow, and around her she had bear, sabre cat and wolf pelts that swallowed up her nimble, feminine form. Only her eyes were visible between her clothes and fur, and she squinted as the wind blew down fiercely against them. They found shelter beneath the overhanging ridge of stone, somewhat of a cave that blocked some of the wind and most of the snow. After struggling to get a fire burning with damp wood, Fenris curled up with Meeko and opened his mouth for what seemed to be the first time that day.

"You've done this before?" Fenris asked, nodding towards the entrance of the cave. "This climb?

"Yes," Evelyna's voice came out muffled behind her fur. "With Lydia, actually. Twice. It was miserable, both times."

He scoffed. Lydia had been irritated when they had arrived back in Whiterun after Sky Haven Temple, but Evelyna had assured her that she would be fine and Lydia would join them eventually. There was still no sign of Hawke and the others, but Evelyna said that it was still too soon to expect anything.

"And these Greybeards... they have to travel this if they wish to go anywhere?"

"Yes," Evelyna nodded, opening a bag with trembling fingers. "But they are happy on their mountain, looking over the world. Pilgrims bring them food and firewood, and other offerings."

She handed him a handful of dried jerky, and he took it gladly, feeling frozen.

"But they aren't Dragonborn, you said."

"No, they aren't. They have to study the dragon tongue for years to speak it."

Fenris leaned back against the stone wall of the cramped cave and looked at her across the meager fire. "Are they stronger than you?"

Evelyna smirked and held her hands out to the flames, trying to drink in the heat. "I'm sure they are, though they don't show me their full power. When they summoned me to them... I felt the earth shake. Everyone heard it for miles and miles, to Whiterun and probably further. I can't do that."

Fenris frowned. "How did they do that?"

"The Voice." She shrugged and then took a bite of the jerky, chewing thoughtfully. "It's mysterious. Like your abilities... You say that you don't know_ how_ your markings work?"

Fenris cleared his throat. "I know what they do. But the... means, I'm not sure. Lyrium is used, in Thedas, in magical potions. It grants mages access to the Fade, and allows Templars to tap into their powers. But it's dangerous to come into contact with it. It causes memory loss among other things. I don't know exactly how I make them work, or why they let me phase through objects."

"Huh." Evelyna scratched her neck and glanced at him. "Are there women like you also?"

"None that I've ever seen."

She wrinkled her nose and sighed. "Do you wish there were?"

Fenris had never been asked this, or even thought about it. The idea of a female lyrium warrior had never been one he had given any consideration to. "No," he replied quickly. "I have no reason to wish there were."

"There would be someone who would understand it."

Fenris frowned. "I don't need anyone to understand it, Evelyna."

"And there was never anyone for you?"

"If there ever was, I have no memory of them." He took another bite of the jerky and placed a hand on Meeko's head. "And I would not seek them out, not with how things went with my sister."

"Truly?" She sounded disbelieving.

"What? You said that you have two brothers you are not in contact with."

"You're right. Sometimes our family is not... beneficial to our well-being. There's nothing wrong with you if you have to distance yourself."

Fenris frowned, curling his slender fingers in Meeko's wiry fur. Golden firelight danced on the stony walls of their small cave. The wind outside howled, and despite the fire, Fenris still felt frozen to the bone.

"Isn't there?" He asked, suppressing a shiver. "Sometimes I wonder."

"Fenris... if I may ask... when you woke up... The first moment you remember since losing your memories... what _did_ you remember then?"

Fenris blinked at her as somewhere in his pit he remembered Danarius' sneering, amused voice.

_"What do you remember, Fenris?" The man was watching him the way a cheetah watches an injured gazelle limping away desperately. Cold eyes were slitted and narrowed at him, a hand scratching in a graying beard._

_Was that his name?_

_"Er," Fenris began, perplexed. There was a fogginess to his mind. A block or a wall, thick and imperturbable, closing in, suffocating his thoughts. He tried to think back. Did he sleep last night? What did he do yesterday? What was his last meal?_

_It was difficult to think back with the pain coursing through him. His skin seemed to rip violently with the slightest of movements. His breath, the rise and fall of his chest, made his skin crack and bleed down his muscles. The pain was blinding, excruciating, and it would have brought him to his knees if he didn't think that would hurt even more._

_"Speak to me with respect, Fenris." The man told him sharply. "I am your master, you are my slave. My property. You will address me as master and perform anything I ask of you unflinchingly. Is this understood?"_

_Fenris inclined his head, unsure of what else to do. That was a sign of respect, right? He couldn't remember learning that, but only that he knew it. He had learned it somewhere._

_Inside, he was aching, writhing, screaming and panicking. But that did not disrupt his exterior._

_"Again," the Master continued, nodding once. "Tell me what you remember last."_

_Fenris swallowed hard, with some difficulty. His head throbbed. His neck felt like he had thin, sharp wires cutting into it. Everything hurt, seared with pain._

_"Nothing," he replied, trying to burst through the fog in his mind, "Master."_

_The Master broke out into a mocking smile before reaching up and making a fist in Fenris' hair. He could feel the hair pull, and tried not to flinch as his scalp let it go. The Master took away a clump of black, straight hair and shook it out of his hand._

_"Indeed, you don't." The Master smirked again. "Good."_

"I told you that I had no memories," Fenris replied darkly.

"But, could you speak? Did you know other things?"

"Yes, and yes. Only my memories of my life were erased. I knew what food I liked, but couldn't tell you when I last ate them. I knew that holding a sword felt natural in my hands,and that I was skilled at it, but I couldn't remember ever training." He sighed, and looked at Evelyna pointedly. "Does that suffice?"

She crossed her arms and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "We could try to get them back, Fenris. I'm sure there's a mage somewhere that would know what to do."

"I've had enough of mages," Fenris growled darkly. "You're a fool to even suggest -"

"Oh, by Talos!" She threw up her hands and then laughed, throwing her head back. Fenris paused, confused. "Fenris," she went on after she caught her breath, "there is no harm in finding a respectable mage for help in this. I know one. His name is Farengar. He could point us in the right direction."

_I'd rather see him rot_. Fenris furrowed his brow, staring at the fire. After a moment he lifted his gaze and met the wild elf before him. The firelight made her eyes look almost golden. She was beautiful, he had even told her so, but he could not want her. She reminded him of the Fog Warriors, and therefore he would always feel somewhat unworthy in her presence. As if he wronged her somehow.

"That is alright," Fenris replied, disarmed by his own thoughts. "I had comee to terms with not having any memories years ago." That was a lie, but it was the most he was going to give in this.

He had hoped that when he boarded that ship months ago that he would be leaving everything behind; his pipe dreams, desperate fantasies about his past and family. Varania's betrayal had hurt more than he wanted to admit to himself, and he still could not extract the dreams he had of his past. When he allowed these thoughts to linger, they became demons in his mind. A flicker of a thought would lead to him wondering what his mother's name was or what she was like, until these thoughts ate at him and he either had to kill something or drink a bottle of wine.

It was unfair that Evelyna would offer this to him, here. Though, of course, she didn't mean it to be so. It was tempting, though, all that she was offering.

She took a long breath before she spoke, as if she didn't want to awake something in him. "I only wanted to give you that option. You are free to choose what you'd like to know."

_You are free._

Fenris snorted. "You don't know how often I must remind myself of that."

A wild smile broke upon Evelyna's face, showing her sharp incisors. "Aye. I must remind myself of that also."

* * *

High Hrothgar's walls were made of a thick stone, and hot braziers burned in corners and hallways, but did very little to drive out the cold. The incessant, frozen wind continued to howl outside like a pack of starved wolves. A long, quiet silence stretched beyond Fenris, Evelyna and Meeko as the heavy doors shut behind them, the residual snow melting as it blew in from the outside.

If there was anyone here, it was beyond Fenris' knowledge. But he couldn't bring himself to clear his throat and ask where this Arngeir was, he couldn't bring himself to break the silence.

Evelyna smiled at him in the dim light of the stone foyer, and Fenris felt like a dwarf in some ancient city, surrounded completely by stone. But this was unlike the city of Solitude, with the red and black wolves staring down at him, with warm taverns and thick rugs and burning hearths. This place was cold and uninviting, and eerily silent.

"Arngeir?" Evelyna asked, seeming to be also put off by the silence. She took a few steps forward and then gained speed, looking down a hallway. "Ah."

Arngeir was an old man clothed in thick robes that hung low over his face and covered the rest of his body. He sat in a chair, looking at a book in his hands, lost in thought.

"Arngeir," Evelyna repeated as she moved closer towards him. Fenris followed behind almost meekly, feeling as if he was not welcome in a place like this, so desolate and cold.

"Ah, Stormcrown. It has been a time since we last saw you." The old man looked at Fenris before turning his gaze towards Evelyna. "What can I do for you, Dovahkiin?"

"Arngeir," Evelyna began, "I need to learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin."

"Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?"

"It was recorded on Alduin's Wall," she explained as Arngeir scoffed.

"The Blades? Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool used in the hands of The Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"

"At least the Blades aren't keeping secrets from me."

"Do not be so sure about that. Beware, The Blades may claim to serve the Dragonborn but they do not. They never have. As for me, I kept from you only what you were not yet ready to know. Are still not ready to know as your question reveals."

"So you won't help me?"

"No. Not now. Not until you return to the path of wisdom." He stood, and Fenris noticed another old man stepping down into the room.

"Arngeir._ Rok los Dovahkiin. Strundu'ul. Rok fen tinvaak Paarthurnax,_" said the second Greybeard. His voice echoed across the room, sounding as if it came from the very walls themselves. Fenris found his fingers twitching as if he'd have to prepare his sword.

"Dragonborn," Arngeir said after a moment, seeming to find himself. "Wait. Forgive me, I was, intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgement. Master Einarth reminded me of my duty. The decision whether or not to help you is not mine to make."

"So, can you teach me this Shout?" Evelyna was irritated, but she was clearly trying to show more respect for Arngeir than Delphine.

"No, I cannot teach it to you. Because I do not know it. It is called 'Dragonrend,' but its words of power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. 'Dragonrend' holds no place in the Way of the Voice."

"What is so bad about Dragonrend?"

"It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons. They poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking its meaning into yourself."

"If the Shout is lost, how can I defeat Alduin?"

"Only Paarthurnax, the Master of our order, can answer that question. If he so chooses."

"Who is Paarthurnax?"

"He is our leader. He surpasses us all in his master of the Way of the Voice."

"I need to speak to Paarthurnax, then."

"You weren't ready. You still aren't ready. But, thanks to The Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer. To get the answers you seek you must travel to the top of the mountain."

"How do I get there?"

"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."

Evelyna followed Arngeir away from the room and down a narrow, dark hallway. They passed through a set of doors out into a frigid courtyard, where the wind blew colder and more fiercely than before, it seemed.

They followed four of the Greybeards to a large fire pit at the base of a wide set of stone stairs. Fenris stood especially close, hoping to absorb its heat.

"The path to Paarthurnax lies this way. I will show you how to open the gate."

Arngeir stood before Evelyna and used his Voice. Fenris could feel the rumble of the Shout ripple away from him. "Lok." Glowing runes appeared on the stones on the ground. "I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us Dragonborn. Use it well."

Through some golden magic beyond Fenris' understanding, Arngeir passed some energy, or knowledge, to Evelyna. It was similar to how she absorbed the souls of the dragons, the way the magic swirled around her. Her eyes narrowed contemplatively, and it seemed as if she understood whatever had happened.

"Clear Skies to blow away the mists. But only for a time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, and not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving. Stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit."

She looked at Fenris, and he nodded in response. Meeko trembled, but whether from cold or fear, Fenris could not tell. He put a soothing hand on the dog's head to comfort him, and they began to walk.

"_Lok Vah Koor_," Evelyna Shouted at the top of the stairs, when the wind, mist and snow became too strong to brave through. Immediately the inclement weather paused, and all grew steadily quiet. Evelyna hurried onward, not willing to wait and risk the weather's return.

But it did. She shouted once again as they came to a wooden bridge stretched over a deep ravine. She shouted once more, and again.

The path wound along steep cliffs, where Fenris could hardly see the world below at its base. His feet crunched through the snow, and he slid several times on the rocks and ice. He was at eye level with the clouds closing in on them.

It was hours before they came upon a clearing and the weather had stopped, where on the opposite end stood an ancient stone wall with intricate carvings in its face. Fenris had never seen one, and he found himself staring at it, oblivious until Evelyna cursed aloud.

"Shit!"

The roar of a dragon pierced the air, far too close for Fenris' comfort. How had they not heard it before?

He saw its shape roll through the sky, wings stretched wide. It was an old dragon, its wings torn and frayed, looking more like long, gnarled fingers than actual wings.

Evelyna's hand was on one of her axes, but she didn't have it raised to throw. The dragon circled overhead and then landed on the snow heavily, shattering the ice below it. It furled its wings and swooped its head towards them, eyes searching them intelligently.

Fenris angled his shoulders, feet planted firmly, ready to lunge, ready to attack and kill. It was only the two of them, and Meeko, against this dragon. _We will die here,_ Fenris thought._ We will die here looking for a man to learn a word._

It was pathetic. Even Varric couldn't weave a story that could redeem this, telling of Fenris' end. But Varric would never know, Fenris thought vaguely. He took a long breath through his nose, and braced himself against whatever pain would come. He took one step towards the monstrous creature, poised for battle.

And then the dragon spoke.


	11. Paarthurnax

**_So if you have not gotten this far in-game, I would suggest you stop reading and go play some damn Skyrim. My rendition of what happens cannot accurately depict the awe and surprise that you feel in the game._**

**_Just so everyone knows... this is not the part yet where Esbern orders the Dovahkiin to kill Paarthurnax. Apparently that happens after Blackreach, which I was surprised of. I even went in-game, after speaking with Paarthurnax, to Esbern, who said nothing about the dragon. And I was excited to write that part, too. =/_**

**_And also, I looked into it, and you can bring companions up to meet Paarthurnax. Which is... surprising, and kind of contradictory. I mean, I understand the Dovahkiin, but not like, Lydia. Meh. Works for my story, so I won't complain._**

**_Anyway. Thank you all, still, for continuing to read this. I think I've gotten out of my little funk. Meh. Hopefully._**

**_Thank you to Blinded in a bolthole, HereLies, Pint-sized She-Bear, Cegorach, etheral-23, Wishfulhamadryad for your reviews and support. I'm blown away by how many people seem to enjoy this. I mean, I know it's not much compared to some other stories on this sight, but it was much more than I expected._**

* * *

_"Come stand with me, my darling, among the trembling pines_

_Feel his presence all around, fire in the sky_

_In this hushed and tranquil place, our souls become entwined_

_Feel his presence everywhere, all powerful divine_

_Fire in the blood, fire in the blood, again."_

_- The Bootleggers_

* * *

_Paarthurnax. That can't be him._

Fenris paused, fingers coiled tight around the hilt of his sword. Snow had fallen into his boots during the journey, and his toes were numb from the cold. The weather had lulled, the world quiet far down below, beyond the cover of the clouds. The mountain groaned under the weight of the winged beast and Meeko whimpered beside Fenris. Even the dog knew they were overpowered. There was no way they would survive this.

The dragon's jaw opened, and from it poured a voice ancient and low, throaty and hoarse. The dragon's voice rolled like distant thunder on the Silent Plains. Ah, how many times had Fenris heard that sound while running?

"_Drem Yol Lok._ Greetings, _wunduniik_. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my _strunmah_ ... my mountain?"

_Paarthurnax is a dragon._

It is a slow realization that stuns the two elves; Evelyna more than Fenris. The poor, female elf had ice caked on her furs and leathers, her hair was matted with snow. She took a few steps towards Paarthurnax, still gripping her axe, as if unbelieving the impossible. The dragon, Paarthurnax, did not seem to fear her blade in the least.

"I wasn't expecting you to be a dragon," she said after a moment, voice quiet and shocked.

"I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you.._. Dovahkiin_. Tell me. Why do you come here,_ volaan_? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

"I...I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout," Evelyna replied, still at a loss. Her voice came out nervous and meek. "Can you teach me?"

"_Drem._ Patience. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the _dov_."

Paarthurnax shifted his great body to face the wall, and looked back at Fenris and Evelyna with fierce eyes, far wilder than the elf's. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my_ Thu'um_! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

Then Paarthurnax looked at the wall again, and unleashed a mighty roar that made Fenris cringe. Snow shuddered down the mountain at the noise, Meeko yelped. A fountain of flames erupted from the beast's mouth, exploding against the ancient wall in a great storm of fire.

"Why do you intrude here, if not for_ tinvaak_?"

Fenris' knowledge of three languages could not help him here. He was vaguely reminded of the Qunari, wondering if somehow they shared the same ancestors, where one group may have traveled to Thedas and the other to Tamriel.

Just like the Greybeards had done on the stone courtyard, Paarthurnax's fire had revealed some runes against the wall. Evelyna glanced between the wall and the dragon, and sheathed her axe, moving towards the wall as the flames died.

She observed the runes with rapt focus, several feet from the face of the wall, and then turned back to Paarthurnax.

"A gift, Dovahkiin. _Yol_. Understand Fire as the _dov_ do."

And then, just as the Greybeards had done, Paarthurnax passed his understanding of the word to Evelyna in a golden, mysterious swirl of energy. Fenris watched, feeling as if he were a part of something big, much bigger than he had ever witnessed before. How many, in Thedas and Tamriel, could say that they had conversed calmly with a dragon?

"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as an elf, but as dovah!"

Evelyna's face was flushed, her eyes wild and deep in thought. She waved at Fenris to get him and Meeko out of the way before she took a deep breath before Paarthurnax, and Shouted.

"_Yol!"_

Fenris watched in frozen, almost fearful awe as flames blasted towards Paarthurnax. His heart pounded deep in his chest as the dragon shut its eyes and shuddered under the attack, but looked none for the worse as the flames disappeared, weak, much weaker than the dragon's had been.

"Ah, yes!_ Sossedov los mul_. The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. I have expected you. _Prodah_. You would not come all this way for_ tinvaak_ with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin." The dragon's great eyes shifted towards Fenris, and to Meeko, before settling upon Evelyna again.

"The Greybeards didn't want me to come at all," Evelyna explained nervously.

"Hmm. Yes. They are very protective of me._ Bahlaan fahdonne_. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek._ Krosis_. It cannot be known to me. Your kind -_ joorre_ - mortals - created it as a weapon against the dov... the dragons. Our_ hadrimme_, our minds cannot even... comprehend its concepts."

"Do you know how can I learn it?"

"_Drem_. All in good time. First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this _Thu'um_?"

"I don't want Alduin to destroy our world."

"_Pruzah._ As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next_ kalpa? Lein vokiin?_ Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"The next world will have to take care of itself," Evelyna answered with the faintest hint of a smirk. Paarthurnax grumbled low in his throat, almost as if chuckling. Dragons were intelligent enough to laugh, to find humor in conversation? Fenris stood in silent awe, fascinated by what was happening before him.

This was truly a spectacular thing he was witnessing, Fenris realized with clarity. It wasn't worth blinking to miss anything.

"_Paaz._ A fair answer._ Ro fus_... maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end. _Wuldestiid los tahrodiis._ Those who try to hasten the end, may delay it. Those who work to delay the end, may bring it closer. But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough._ Krosis_. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the _Monahven_ - what you name Throat of the World?"

Picking up on his chuckle, Evelyna smirked again, a bit more. "No. Dragons like mountains, right?"

"True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues._ Vahrukt unslaad_... perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."

"Using the Dragonrend Shout, right?"

"Yes and no._ Viik nuz ni kron_. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to... defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough._ Ok mulaag unslaad_. It was the_ Kel_ - the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time."

Evelyna narrowed her eyes, perplexed. "An Elder Scroll? The Vampires have one. Should we be worried, are you talking about this one? Are there more?"

"There are other Elder Scrolls, yes, but this is likely a different one. Hmm... how to explain in your tongue? The dov have words for such things that_ joorre_ do not. It is... an artifact from outside time. It does not exist, but has always existed. _Rah wahlaan_. They are... hmm... fragments of creation. The_ Kelle_... Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Yes, your prophecy comes from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. _Zofaas suleyk._"

"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?"

"Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost._ Meyye._ I knew better_. Tiid bo amativ_. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I know where he would emerge but not when."

"I don't understand," Evelyna muttered quietly, shaking her head. The wind blew her black, ice-laden hair across her face. "How does any of this help me?"

"_Tiid krent_. Time was... shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that _Kel,_ that Elder Scroll back here... to the_ Tiid-Ahraan,_ the Time-Wound... with the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to... cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

Evelyna looked completely at a loss for what to do, as if on the verge of tears. But none fell from her face. "Do you know where I can find this Elder Scroll?"

"_Krosis_. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."

Evelyna thought for a few moments. "Arngeir might know."

"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way."

With that, Paarthurnax moved to the wall and perched atop it like a bird, his breathing coming in slowly and sounding like the ocean against a stony shore. Evelyna watched the dragon with interest, before at last saying farewell to Paarthurnax and turning away.

As they began to descend back down the way they came, Fenris realized he had yet to sheathe his sword. He did so, and flexed his fingers, trying to drive the blood back into them.

"So," he said after a few minutes of contemplative silence between them, "I was expecting someone with... fewer scales, I think."

Evelyna snorted. "I was as well. _A dragon_. I don't even know what to think. And he's going to help me?"

Fenris felt uneasy at how... calm she seemed about it, though she was confused. "You should be wary of him. You said it yourself that their desire to conquer is innate and overwhelming. He cannot be trusted, as pleasant as he seems to you."

As if caught doing something wrong, Evelyna looked at him with wide eyes. "I... I know, Fenris. But... can they all truly be so terrible? All of them?"

"You'd be a fool to think he doesn't have the capability," Fenris glanced over his shoulder and then frowned at Evelyna. She folded her arms over her chest, scowling mildly. The wind whipped down the mountain fiercely, and Fenris felt a shiver run down his spine.

Evelyna said nothing in response to that, and Fenris felt badly for it after a few minutes. He didn't need to scold her when she hadn't done anything wrong, at least it didn't seem as if she had yet. Fenris took a breath, and swallowed his defiance. "I must admit, though, that was impressive."

"What?" She asked, sounding distracted and irritated.

"That display of... Shouting," Fenris allowed gently. "I feel privileged to have seen such a thing."

She looked away, not amused, looking still as if on the verge of screaming or crying. "I still can't... understand what just happened."

"Paarthurnax," Fenris said slowly, committing the name to memory, "is the leader of the Greybeards. It makes sense, I suppose. They never told you that he _wasn't_ a dragon."

"No, but... I can't tell Esbern and Delphine. They'll try to kill him. The Blades are dragonslayers -"

Fenris found himself frowning. "You'll allow him to live, when he can cause your kind unimaginable strife?"

Evelyna sucked her teeth before sighing, still looking irritated. "He's helping me, Fenris."

He scoffed, amazed at her ignorance. "What better way to murder the dragonborn than to gain her trust first?" He waved his hand. "Bah. _Venhedis_. It isn't my fight. Do what you will."

Evelyna snarled like she had when they first met, when she had an arrow pointed for his throat. But she didn't look at him now. He had struck a nerve somewhere, and Evelyna wasn't ready to give that to him.

"You've never met anyone that wanted a bit of redemption before?" She asked after a while and the sun began peeking behind the mountains in the far west. In Thedas, the sun was probably only rising, and Fenris wondered what kind of day it would be for his homeland.

"No one that's deserved it," he replied quickly.

Evelyna smirked, unbelieving, as if she believed she had something on him. "Not even you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Surely you've done something wrong in your life." _Oh, if you only knew._ "Or else you would not have run from Thedas."

"I left Thedas because Hawke's friend sparked a war, and we felt that it was safer for everyone if we left." He growled. "Not because I did anything wrong. And you cannot prove that Paarthurnax even wants redemption."

"No, I suppose I cannot. My apologies, then." Evelyna resumed frowning, letting the subject rest, and continued down the mountain's perilous slope. "We'll have to stay with the Greybeards tonight. Let us pray that they know where to find an Elder Scroll."

* * *

Later, Arngeir rose from his meditation as he saw Evelyna, Fenris and Meeko approaching. "So you spoke to Paarthurnax. The dragonblood burns bright within you. Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you the Dragonrend Shout?"

"No, but he told me how to find out."

"So be it. If he believes it is necessary for you to learn this, we will bow to his wisdom."

"I need the Elder Scroll the ancients used. Do you know where to find it? I know that the Vampires have one, but it must not be the same one."

"We have never concerned ourselves with the Scrolls. The gods themselves would rightly fear to temper with those things. Such blasphemies are the callings of mages, not followers of the Way. Take your question to the College of Winterhold, if you don't want to face the Vampires. They may be able to help you." Arngeir said dismissively, and it was clear by his tone that that was all he wanted to say.

Evelyna pressed her lips together in consideration. "May we stay here tonight, Arngeir?"

His blue eyes regarded them, specifically Fenris, for a period before he hummed his assent. "Very well. Try not to disrupt the others, dragonborn."

"I won't," she promised, inclining her head respectfully before turning away and leading Fenris through narrow, dark and cold tunnels. They emerged in a room with some bedrolls laid out on the stones and a few tables with books and food. Evelyna rolled out their own bedrolls away from the others and sat down with her back against the corner.

Fenris stood near one of the tables, running his fingers over a leather book cover, gazing at the embellished dragon.

"They do not seem thrilled to have you here," Fenris noted gently, glancing behind him to make sure none of the other Greybeards heard him.

"They're angry with me, I think. Over this Shout."

"I fail to see why."

"I don't, I think," she said quietly, crossing her legs at the ankles. Meeko sniffed at the food on the table, and Fenris fed him a piece of bread. Evelyna continued. "This Shout seems like a cruel thing to do to an animal."

"They're more than animals," Fenris said seriously. "They speak their own language. They've enslaved your people. You call them animals?"

"They are. As are we." Evelyna shook her head, as if overwhelmed. "It's Alduin I want dead, not a dragon like Paarthurnax."

"I'm sure if all dragons lived in seclusion and didn't prey on anyone, you wouldn't be experiencing the problems you face now." He stared at her seriously from beneath his white curtain of hair, and then sighed. "But they aren't like Paarthurnax. And he cannot be trusted anyway."

"I... have a feeling that he can."

"That remains to be seen. Though I think you will regret it when the day comes when you see where his allegiance lies." He sighed when he saw Evelyna's disappointed frown, realizing he was treating her like a child. "Alas, you are the one with dragonblood in your veins. What I say doesn't matter. It is not my place to scold you so."

A faint smile brushed her lips and she rolled her eyes. "I can't do everything right, you know."

Fenris looked at the food on the table longingly. He felt starved, and perhaps he was, and also frozen down to the core. There was no respite from the cold in Skyrim, he had learned. Except in the balmy southeast near Riften. Perhaps he'd settle himself in the Fall Forest when everything blew over, if it ever did and he found Hawke again.

"And where are we going next?" He asked. "Arngeir said something about mages?"

Evelyna nodded solemnly. "We're off to Winterhold, I fear."

Someone padded lightly into the room, and Fenris looked over to see one of the other Greybeards carrying a blue platter covered in food and a bottle of wine. Fenris felt his stomach rumble at the sight of it. The Greybeard held the platter out to Fenris, who took it in his hands curiously.

"Thank you, Master Einarth," Evelyna said warmly, and Fenris couldn't help but feel his lip curling in distaste at the formality.

The Greybeard said nothing in response, he only inclined his head and turned to leave them. Fenris looked down at the pie, seared fish and venison, cabbage and potatoes on the platter.

"They do not speak much," he noticed as he put the platter down on the table. Evelyna got up and found a seat on the bench across from Fenris.

"I've noticed that too. I asked Arngeir that, the first time I was here. He said that the others are so powerful that their voice could destroy us. Arngeir has more training, than they do, I think and that's why he can speak to us."

Fenris took a plate from the platter and cut himself a piece of venison. "What should I expect in Winterhold? Why are their mages there?"

Evelyna poured a glass of wine and took a sip before she began to fill her plate. "The College of Winterhold is there, which is where the mages go to study."

"And you would seek their counsel?" He asked, reminding himself that he'd have to maintain his composure.

"Well, Fenris, they may be the only ones that know where the Elder Scroll is. It's not like we're looking for a mountain."

"Are there many of these Elder Scrolls?"

"I don't think there are many, but there are some."

Fenris frowned and poured his own glass, glancing at the few candles on the table and wishing there was a large hearth with a hot fire burning at his feet. Oh, the things he never thought he'd miss so much.

"Have you been to Winterhold?" He asked, taking a bite of the venison.

"No. I've never had a reason to. I've heard that it's a miserable town, and half of it fell into the sea long ago. But - you should be glad that your ship didn't wreck there. No one would have ever found you."

"It's desolate?"

"Yes, from what I've heard. I've been to Dawnstar and further east, which is closer to Winterhold. From what I remember it's just a vast, snowy, bleak region. About as cold as it is way up here."

Fenris groaned. "I'm sick of the cold."

Evelyna laughed, and for some reason it felt wrong to disrupt the long silence in the dark castle with such a light, happy sound. "I've lived in the cold for about seventy years, Fenris, and sometimes it is still too cold for me. They say your blood thickens, but I think that is a slow process."

Fenris found himself smirking, despite the prospect of visiting a College of mages. The thought of it made him nervous, and irritable. "You're seventy?" He asked gently, trying to restrain his horrified surprise. Either she was making a terrible joke, or Fenris had heard her incorrectly.

But should he be surprised? _Really? _This was Skyrim. Very little was the same as in Thedas.

"Yes. I lose track of the years, I admit, though. Why? You can't be much older than I."

"You must have a longer lifespan than I. Elves in Thedas were once blessed with long lives, but exposure to humans changed that. We have the same lifespan as humans."

"Oh. Really? We live roughly one thousand years, Fenris. How old are you?"

Fenris chewed his venison and cleared his throat, eyes lowered. "I don't know."

"Oh, right." She wrinkled her nose and took another sip of her wine. "My apologies. How old do you feel?"

"Older than I believe I really am."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Evelyna fed Meeko a piece of slaughterfish and took another sip of wine. Fenris felt a faint blush crawl up his neck as he met her gaze over the rim of his wine goblet. The ice and snow had melted from her eyelashes and hair, making it cling to her shoulders and forehead. The dim light made her skin look darker, but it suited her well, and in the faint light, she was more mysterious and equally wild and fierce, but clean without visible dirt stains and scars.

He couldn't get the image of her conversing with Paarthurnax out of his head. Where he was a wolf, she was a dragon, and she embraced it well. Seeing her Shout at Paarthurnax, flames erupting from her, Fenris had rarely been in such awe of someone, let alone a fellow elf. Her and the dragon had had an impressive display of the Thu'um, to the point where it had almost been frightening.

"Have you given it anymore thought? About getting your memories back?"

Fenris put his goblet down and turned it around slowly on the table, staring at it thoughtfully. "I... no."

A quick glance showed her nod and faint smile. "I will not ask again. I think I bother you when I do."

To that, Fenris only nodded, unable to find any words. What had him so tongue-tied tonight? He felt unsettled at the realization that he felt comfortable enough with Evelyna to scold her like a child, when he knew just as well that he was less informed about dragons, The Blades and Skyrim's history than she was. It was not his place to say the things he had said to her, and yet he had anyway. He owed her some kind of apology at the very least.

"You bother me less than you think you do, I'm sure," he muttered softly. It was a poor apology, and not even one at that, but it was the most he could manage. Evelyna contemplated that for a moment, but her lips curled just slightly, in the corners, to form a small smirk.

"I'm a lucky woman, then."

Fenris coughed. "I am... flattered you think so."

He poured himself another glass of wine, feeling the intensity of Evelyna's gaze upon him. "I must say, Fenris," she began after a moment, fingertips tagging her blue and silver goblet, "you are a much more formidable warrior than I expected, when I found you. You put Lydia, even Uthgerd, to shame."

"Well, I have advantages they do not have. But alas, you have my thanks." He found himself smirking, trying to suppress a faint blush crawling up his neck. "I am lucky to have found myself in your company, I think."

* * *

_-Earlier-_

"Er, hello," Hawke wiped his hands on his hips, brow furrowed. A woman sat upon a throne of sorts, speaking with another woman clothed in blue robes, and wolves on red, black and white banners stared down from all around them. The Blue Palace was massive on the outside, and large as well inside, with high ceilings and walls made completely of stone.

A man with a red beard and unfriendly eyes gazed at the four of them as if he were looking upon peasants. Or less than peasants.

"What business do you have with the court?" He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. That was the thing about this land. All the men and women were built strong and hard, with scars and dirt stains and cold eyes. Hawke was constantly reminded of Ferelden.

"We were told by the guards at the gate to come here. There is someone looking for us." Hawke glanced over his shoulder at the others. Isabela shifted her weight on her feet, looking strange with her jewelry and brigand garb. Varric's eyes were searching the castle, Merrill watched Hawke silently. Merrill looked foolish with her armor; a large chunk of the mail had been crushed when the dragon swiped at her.

"Ah," the man glanced at the other three, eyes brightening with interest. "Yes, I remember now. My name is Falk Firebeard, I'm the Jarl's steward. If you just wait here, I'll retrieve something for you."

"Of course," Hawke replied with a brief incline of his head. Falk turned away and excused himself from court, but the Jarl paid him no mind as she spoke with the cloaked woman.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Isabela nudged Varric's shoulder.

The dwarf arched his eyebrows. "A trap? Yes. I'm always thinking that," he muttered back, pointing his chin at the guards. At least he had Bianca. In the shipwreck and the dragon attack, he hadn't lost his infamous crossbow. He had strapped her to his back when he noticed the Elf unconscious, nearly about to tumble over the edge of the ship.

_Varric had had to run to the Elf as the ship began to crumble and allow itself to be swallowed by the frozen, roaring sea. The others were occupied with the dragon, but Varric hadn't looked over Fenris' predicament. As much of a jerk as Fenris was, Varric had a special place in his heart for the damned elf._

_Varric sprinted as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. The ship heaved, and he found himself sliding across the deck on his knees clumsily. Fenris' Blade of Mercy went overboard soundlessly and as Varric slammed into the railing, he saw Fenris' leg was bleeding freely, his leggings torn._

_Varric crawled towards Fenris, who lay slumped and crammed against the railing. Rain ran down his face, and for once the damned elf actually looked peaceful and calm. Varric looked around, flinching at the sound of the ship's wood cracking and snapping violently. Daisy was screaming in pain, clutching at her side, her hands covered in blood._

_If only Anders was here, and alive, he'd be able to fix her. Isabela was dancing out of the way of the dragon's snapping jaws, her sea legs serving her better than anyone else. Hawke was crouched in front of Daisy defensively, his sword readied. The dragon even slipped on the soaked deck, and what was left of the ship groaned with the shift in weight distribution._

_Varric turned back to Fenris and began to tie him to a large piece of wood that had come off the ship somewhere, a piece of the hull that the dragon may have kicked up._

"So many wolves..." Garrett's voice interrupted the disturbing, chaotic memory. Varric would sing a song about that day, but that was a long ways off. Fenris had likely died at his hand, drowned by the wood rather than kept buoyant by it, and there was nothing to sing about with such guilt weighing down his consciousness.

Falk Firebeard arrived after a few moments with a satchel that rang mysteriously like a coinpurse. "Yes, I remember better now. There was a woman here, looking for you. You match her descriptions."

"A woman?" Garrett muttered, "Do you remember her name?"

"No. She was a wood elf, with another like her, a man. He had white tattoos on his neck and white hair. A strange sight for Solitude, I'm sure a lot of people saw them both."

Varric choked on his own breath. Fenris was... _alive?_ And in Solitude? This was better news than they ever could have imagined.

"Did he look well?" Merrill asked, mouth gaping open in shock.

Falk shrugged as Garrett took the satchel in his hands, looking at it curiously. "He had a bad limp to him, if I remember correctly."

_That would make sense,_ Varric thought. He had a nasty gash in his leg when he had tied him up to a piece of the hull. He was lucky to still have his leg after that.

"Thank you," Hawke said after a brief moment, sounding uncertain. "We appreciate your help."

"Aye," Falk replied. "Now, if you don't mind..."

"Yes, we're leaving." Garrett turned and looked at his friends before walking past them down the stairs. The realization that Fenris was alive was beginning to settle on them all. A wave of relief washed over Varric. Varric's little raft he had made him had sufficed. That was astronomically good. Varric didn't want Fenris' death weighing on him.

Outside, the wind was bitter, but the sun was pale and blinding. Garrett waited until they had left the courtyard of the Blue Palace before he made a move to open the satchel. They found a spot to sit on a low stone wall, and with trembling hands, Garrett pulled out the letter, sealed with wax and written on vellum. Not too far, but out of earshot, a group of citizens walked down the street, chatting. A guard glanced at the four of them before turning down a street. Garrett cleared his throat nervously.

Ah, to see Hawke nervous... what a terrible thing. Varric had seen his friend's transformation first hand over the past few years. But having to murder Anders had seemed to be the breaking point. Hawke was great with burying his issues, but actually having to pull out that knife and kill a man he had called a friend just that morning... it had ruined him. It was like watching a majestic, beautiful animal go crazed and helpless.

"A letter?" Isabela wondered. "I've never seen Fenris write a letter before."

"It might not be a letter," Garrett began. "Perhaps a ransom?"

"But was that coin I heard in there?" Varric asked, taking the satchel from Hawke. He took a peak inside and nodded in confirmation. "Who would expect a ransom but give us a down payment in the meantime? And this can't be Fenris'... how would he have any money here?"

"Let's see," Hawke cleared his throat and broke the wax seal. He began to read to his friends, anxiety rising within him, fingers trembling.

_"To whom it may concern (Hawke, Isabela, Varric, Merril),_

_This is a friend of Fenris. He was injured in the wreck that happened one week ago, and for five days we remained in the hills until he was well enough to travel to Solitude. We received word that you were searching for him. Unfortunately, circumstance makes us have to leave the city. We will be heading South to Whiterun. If you come upon this, please know that Fenris is safe and would like to find you._

_My name is Evelyna. I live at Breezehome, in Whiterun. Enclosed is gold for you to send a letter and should also pay for passage for the four of you to travel to my home. We will be posting these in every town that we pass._

_Sincerely,_

_Evelyna & Fenris"_

A silence passed before anyone dared to say a thing. Isabela read the letter next, to herself, and then chuckled while the others sat in contemplation.

"He didn't waste much time. He's found a lady friend. Clearly he's doing just fine without us all." She smiled and offered the letter to the others.

"Why wouldn't he write in it?" Merrill asked, confused.

"His handwriting is terrible," Hawke replied solemnly, almost distantly. He met eyes with Varric and sighed. "But he's alive. That's what matters."

"So what to do now?" Varric asked, finding it hard to keep his smile from his face. He hadn't killed Fenris, like he had thought. He could breathe easy now.

Hawke ran a hand through his hair. "How much money is in there?"

"More than we had," Isabela chuckled.

"We should buy ourselves some armor and weapons," Hawke said, "with this money. We can walk to Whiterun, perhaps. Let's see how much Fenris has helped us."

* * *

"So this is Fort Dawnguard?" Fenris looked up at the massive structure in something akin to awe. The walls rose tall and mostly smooth, with some arrow slits and round tops. Fenris had seen old buildings in his lifetime, but nothing like this. Ancient buildings in Tevinter were sharp, with buttresses and beautiful atriums and pools, intricate statues depicting usually naked men and women. Tevinter was a land of the ornate and excess, while this... this spoke to a world ravaged and struggling for survival.

"It's large, isn't it?" Evelyna had seemed pleased since they agreed at the base of High Hrothgar to take a short break in her travels. Surely one lost Elder Scroll had something to do with another, but Fenris wasn't sure. Nonetheless, he was glad to just be done with the snow for now.

But as they walked up towards the Fort, the sun was warm and high in the pale sky. A cool breeze blew in from the east, from Morrowind, and the sandy road was pale and soft. Winter had lost its hold on the earth here, and Fenris was grateful for it. Birds sang and deer fled from the two elves with their horse and dog, and the only sign that Fort Dawnguard was occupied were the few torches and a wall made of logs erected before them, two banners flanking the gate.

"Indeed," Fenris murmured. Evelyna moved forward and opened the gate, finding it unmanned. She frowned at the empty sight before her and shut the gate behind them.

Braziers burned all the way to the castle. A vacant camp burned bright with a lit fire, though no one sat around it drinking and laughing. Oh, what Fenris wouldn't give for a bottle of wine, a bath and a warm bed.

As they rounded the corner they found a man walking with a torch, who only nodded at the two of them, recognizing Evelyna.

Stepping into Fort Dawnguard, Fenris was again reminded of its age. Cobwebs stretched in the corners of the stone building, and in the foyer stood two people; Sorine and a warrior in garb similar to Evelyna's.

As Fenris, Evelyna and Meeko stepped in further, Fenris noticed a man atop a balcony talking to the other two.

"Alright, you've got us all here," said the man in barbarian clothes. "Now what do you want?"

"Hold it right there!" The man on the balcony shouted as a gate came down to block the way out of the foyer.

"What are you doing?" Asked Sorine, tilting her head up to look at the man.

"That's Isran," Evelyna leaned in towards Fenris and nodded to the man on the balcony. Sunlight shone down at them all as Isran crossed his arms over his chest. Fenris shielded his eyes from the break in the roof, trying to adjust.

"Making sure you're not Vampires," Isran explained seriously. "So welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against. Powerful Vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll. If anyone's going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."

"This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?" Sorine asked, irritated.

"We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll get room to start tinkering on that crossbow design you've been working on. Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pin up some trolls. Get them armored up and ready for use. In the meantime, we're going to get to the bottom of why a Vampire showed up here looking for you, Evelyna."

Evelyna's eyes went wide as she realized he was talking to her. Fenris didn't like his tone as the man suggested, "Let's go have a little chat, shall we?"

* * *

The room Isran led them to was bloodied, with several deer skulls hanging on the wall and barbaric torture instruments scattered about. Whatever Isran was bringing her here for, it didn't seem like it was to just "talk." Fenris was about to reach to grab Evelyna's arm and drag her out of there when he noticed the other woman. She was pale, her face framed in dark hair braided back, with eyes bright and orange like fire.

"This Vampire showed up while you were away," Isran said, paying Fenris no mind. After all, they had just been introduced, but Isran seemed preoccupied. "I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. Says it's got something really important to say to you. So let's hear it."

Evelyna's shoulders were rigid, eyes narrowed at the Vampire. "Serana?" She asked.

Fenris noticed the object strapped to the Vampire's back; golden with black handles, intricate designs carved onto it. Serana looked away from Isran and at Evelyna, a hint of a smile tinging her lips. "You probably weren't expecting to see me again."

"What are you doing here?" Evelyna asked.

"I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your friend here loses his patience. It's... well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."

Fenris tried not to scowl. Evelyna had told him about Vampires, but it was different seeing one. This one wore maroon, the color of Tevinter, and she didn't look... _alive_ though she breathed and her mouth moved when she spoke. Should such things be allowed the mercy to walk upon the world? Especially if they hunted elves and humans?

"What about the scroll?" Evelyna asked, voice rippling with anticipation. Fenris felt his fingers twitch towards his weapon.

"The reason I had it... and why I was down there. It all comes back to my father. I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person. Even by Vampire standards. He wasn't always like that, though. There was... a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it." She put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"What sort of prophecy?"

"It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies. The part he latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That's what he's after. He wants to control the sun, have vampires control the world. Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was sealed away with the Scroll."

"You took a big risk coming here," Evelyna warned seriously.

"I did. But something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong."

"If you think you want to help us, I'm not going to try and convince anyone that you are."

"Well, let's move then. I'm nothing if not persuasive."

"All right, you've heard what it has to say. Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?" Isran asked, taking a few steps closer to Evelyna so he could speak under his breath. Fenris noticed the skulls atop a shelf and felt his stomach churn. This was a bad place.

"Set your hatred aside and try to see the larger picture, Isran."

"Set my hatred aside? Not a chance. It's what keeps me strong." In that, Fenris realized, he had in common with Isran.

"You don't trust her, fine. Trust me. I believe her. We can kill her if she steps out of line, Isran. We'd overpower her, she's only one of them."

"You'd better know what you're doing," Isran growled, glancing at Fenris. "It can stay for now, but if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I'll hold you responsible. Got it?" Isran pointed a finger at Serana. "You hear me? Don't feel like a guest because you're not. You're a resource, you're an asset."

_You're a slave. Property. _Danarius' voice reached him here, even in Skyrim. Fenris flinched at the memory, trying to reassert his thoughts.

"In the meantime," Isran explained to the Vampire, "don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity. Because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it."

Fenris growled. He had no right to threaten Evelyna like that, to use her as a sort of collateral. He took a step forward but Evelyna shifted, blocking his way. He stepped into her back and stopped. She knew what she was doing, but she was trying to stop him while also going unnoticed.

Luckily, Serana spoke as soon as he collided with his elven companion. "Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry." Serana sighed and looked at Evelyna. "So, in case you didn't notice the giant thing on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father. But of course, neither of us can read it."

"Who can?" Evelyna asked, voice shaky.

"Well, the Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start reading, though. Not that it helps us anyway, because they're all half a continent away in Cyrodiil."

"Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest."

Serana tilted her head in interest. "Do you know where he's staying now?"

"No, and I'm not going to waste men looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it. You want to find him, try talking to anyone who would meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the cities maybe. But you're on your own."

Serana looked away from Isran to Evelyna, her golden eyes flitting on Fenris briefly. "Any idea how you're going to find a Moth Priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place."

"Where would a Moth Priest actually go?"

"Well, back before I... you know. The College of Winterhold was the first place I'd think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing. The wizards know about all kinds of things that people probably shouldn't know about. Actually, now that I think of it... I'm going to come along with you. I've been wanting to get out and explore a bit."

Evelyna shook her head. "No. You should get out, but not with me. What else do you know about Elder Scrolls?"

"I mean... as much as anyone. Not a lot. You'd figure a couple hundred years locked away with one would have given me some insight, but no. Turns out you don't learn much from just... sleeping with something."

To that, Evelyna chuckled. "Alright. Well... Serana, I don't think it's a good idea that you go with me. I'm not comfortable with it. Besides, I was on my way to Winterhold anyway, actually. On other business."

Serana almost looked offended, but she only sighed. "Very well, Evelyna. I was locked away for a thousand years, what's a few more weeks?"

Evelyna didn't answer the Vampire, instead she glanced at Isran who was getting ready to leave the room. "Hear that, Isran?"

He grunted no coherent response, waving his hand with irritation as he disappeared.

Evelyna's eyes narrowed, and her gaze met Fenris for a brief moment before settling on Serana. "If you must feed, do so with animals. Touch a human, elf, orc, khajit or argonian and I'll have your damned head, Serana."

* * *

**I know that Serana is supposed to be with the Dragonborn at this point... but to that I will just say no, not in this story. I'm not going to write her. Sorry.**


	12. Hot Springs, Spiced Wine & Barfights

_**Hello, hello! I'm sorry this one took so long to come out. I've been working a lot of overnights at the hospital, and when I do those I'm usually too mentally tired after to write. And one of my patients spit in my eyes so now I'm worrying about contracting all these diseases, waiting for bloodwork to come back. AH!**  
_

_**So, thank you to HereLies, Arquise, conorjmck, Wolf, Arch-Daishou, Pint-sized She-Bea, Blinded in a bolthole and ggs1995. Thank you all for your support, thoughts, questions, reviews, everything. It really does mean a lot to me!**_

_**This chapter is a bit of a step back from the questing, and the second half of the chapter kind of ran away with me. But I think it's appropriate considering the xenophobia and times... anyway. Enjoy, hopefully!**_

* * *

_"You can't hold me, I 'm too slippery_, _I do no sleeping, I get lonely_

_You can touch me, if you want to, __I've got poison, just might bite you._

_Lie in circles, in the sunlight, s__hine like diamonds on a dark night,_

_Ain't no mercy, in my smile, o__nly fangs and sweet beguiling,_

_Future, he don't, try to find me, s__kin I've been through, dies behind me_

_Solid hollow, wrapped in hatred, n__ot a drop of venom wasted."_

_- The Bootleggers. "Fire in the Blood/The Snake Song"_

* * *

"I still think you should have killed her," Fenris put in after they left Fort Dawnguard. It felt good to have a full stomach and a good night's rest before descending back out into the balmy southern hills, but he was uneasy and irritated at her behavior back at the Fort. Serana should not have her life. "There's no telling what she can do."

Evelyna waved her hand. "I'm more dangerous than she is, Fenris. Besides, she's a sheep in a wolf's den. Do you think she'll try anything there?"

He frowned, bothered by her casualness. "I wouldn't call a vampire a sheep, by the way you've explained them. Do you know how many of your kind she's probably killed? You should be more worried. If she does anything, Isran plans on punishing you for it."

"Well, he won't do that either."

"He made the threat. You didn't address it, either. I'm surprised."

"Not in front of the enemy."

"Well, at least you see her as such," Fenris allowed, jaw clenched.

"I noticed that you were ready to intervene for what he said...?" Evelyna looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

"I'm... no."

"What was that, then?"

Fenris felt a blush creeping up his neck and towards his ears, but he managed to still scowl. "I don't take kindly to threats, Evelyna."

"But it wasn't directed towards you," she smirked, eyes dancing with delight.

"_Venhedis_," he growled, shifting his gaze forward. "Are we in Winterhold yet?"

She laughed, running her hand on the horse's muzzle. Meeko prowled ahead, nose searching diligently for something interesting. Fenris shook his head, balling his fists at his sides, though he wasn't particularly angry more than irritated.

"Oh, by Talos, Fenris. You said I don't bother you that much."

"Not always."

"You can flirt with me too, you know. I wouldn't mind it." She grinned wickedly, playfully. "In fact, I may enjoy it."

"Tempting," he allowed, lip curling slightly into half a smirk.

Evelyna smiled wide in the daylight, and behind her Fenris could see fields of hot springs and low tundra, steam rolling through the valley. "Is it? That's reassuring, I had thought you were made of stone."

He swallowed hard. "Er, no," he knew he was flushed now, but he went on anyway. "Delphine would have your head," he told her, "You're the dragonborn. You're not allowed to get involved with anyone."

He noticed an instant shift in her. Her smile waned, her joy burnt out like a weak candle in a drafty room. A woman stared back at him, alone in all the world. Gone was her audacious, playful, wild attitude, replaced by a grieving, solemn loneliness. She was the dragonborn. She would never be considered someone's equal. Dragonborn was a title given to dead kings and outlawed gods, like Talos. What man could ever take her hand and not feel ashamed, not for himself but for her?

She was a dragon, he was a wolf. Wolves and dragons could not live among common men, for fear of destroying them.

"It's my choice, Fenris," Evelyna said after a moment. "Why? You truly find me so repulsive?"

Fenris sighed, hands relaxed at his sides. A wave of guilt swelled in him. "You are far from repulsive, Evelyna." He owed her that much at least. And it was the truth, though one he didn't even like to admit to himself. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her, it was that he felt like he had a duty to his friends, to find them first, before he pursued a woman.

He had relaxed a bit in his time in Kirkwall. After all those years, the thought of leaving Hawke's side had crossed his mind more than once. Maybe he_ could_ get a house somewhere. Maybe he_ could_ find a woman he liked. Maybe he _could_ function like any other normal elf.

"Hmm," she said with a faint, solemn smile smile, "I'm glad, then. For a while there I thought I looked like an old hag."

"Not yet anyway," Fenris chuckled faintly, baritone voice rumbling. "Which is surprising, since you're elderly by my standards."

Evelyna let out a small chuckle, and Fenris tried not to feel so guilty.

Merrill was the only single female in their group of misfits, but he could never have seen himself with that naive child. It felt like ages, a thousand ages ago when he had first met Hawke and his mage-sister. Evelyna, though, she was something different. In Thedas, Evelyna would not be considered beautiful, even by a fellow elf. She'd be marked for a bandit or barbarian, or a savage native in the jungles, and not allowed in the cities.

Which was interesting, because here, those who recognized her marked her as a hero. And yet, very few actually did recognize her, fewer even respected her. There were never any trumpets blaring to welcome her to a city, no Jarl coming down from their throne to greet her, no free ale or wine, no one offering the dragonborn a sprawling bed to sleep in. It was different. Quieter. Modest. And Fenris liked it.

Hawke hadn't been able to go anywhere in Kirkwall without someone bowing to him. Once he became the Champion, people respected him to the point of reverence. It was annoying, for Fenris. He could go nowhere with Hawke without many eyes upon him. It was an uncomfortable way to live as a fugitive.

Though he wasn't a fugitive anymore. Not here, and not after he killed Danarius. This was something Fenris had to remind himself every day. It was one thing to live life increasingly more paranoid and strict, to place restrictions on the self in order to preserve one's safety and survival. But it was a different thing completely to reverse that order, to allow oneself to truly breathe. Fenris was at a loss of how to do so. Evelyna, to his benefit, wasn't. And though she may or may not be oblivious to his inner struggles with this, she was a fine example of how to live.

Which is why, later, at camp, when Evelyna began to strip herself free of her armor and clothing, Fenris did not complain like he had before. He sat beside the fire, running Evelyna's whetstone over the edge of his blade. It was a hypnotic and meditative ritual, but Fenris could not lose himself that day. His thoughts remained on that abomination, that creature Serana. That thing had no right to live, and Evelyna was wrong for turning her back on her.

He noticed Evelyna disrobing when her single steel pauldron fell onto a stone beside her feet. By the time he looked up, she had removed her leathers and furs from her legs, bare from the waist down but facing away from him, standing not terribly far away. His ears burned instantaneously, and he feared that she would look over her shoulder and catch him staring.

She pulled her leather vest over her head and tossed it to the ground. She really had no shame in being naked in front of him. Fenris couldn't help but feel that that was just_ how it was_, that it wasn't her trying to actively flirt with him. Which was good, there was less pressure on him that way. Here, in Skyrim, people just didn't _care_ about that sort of thing. And Skyrim was all the more better for it, really. Why should Fenris feel ashamed of his markings when others felt no embarrassment being naked, out in the cold wild?

"Oh, Fenris, it's so warm," she told him when she was knee-deep in the water. Unruly black hair shifted as she looked over her shoulder at him, smiling.

He looked back down hurriedly at his sword, embarrassed to be seen watching her like some virginal little boy. What a stark contrast he was, to be such a menacing whirlwind of death on the battlefield, and an awkward, uncertain man before a woman.

"You can join me. The water's deep enough, you won't see anything." Fenris heard the water splash a little bit. "See?"

He lifted his gaze nervously, and saw that she had submerged herself so that only her shoulders and head were visible above the water. Fenris took a breath and sighed. "One of us should be out here, in case we're attacked."

Evelyna smirked. "There's no one for miles, Fenris. Look, I'll even prove it. _Laas yah nir_." She looked around, narrowing her eyes on something to the east before continuing. "There are some wolves far off, an elk near them... we're fine. Besides, I've seen you mostly naked anyway."

"What?" He nearly choked.

"When I was taking care of you. I had to see where all of your cuts were." Her hazel eyes danced with delight as she smirked at him, flicking some water from the spring towards him. The water drops fell short, but Fenris ran his whetstone along the blade in stony, contemplative silence.

"Have I offended you?" She asked gently, sitting near the edge of the hot spring, shoulders submerged as well. The sky above them was a dull pink as the sun found its way behind the mountains to the west.

Fenris didn't answer, conflicted between feeling violated and relieved. She knew how extensive his markings were, and was apparently not repulsed by them. But did she_ like_ them? That was worse, if she did. Like others in his past, perhaps she thought they accentuated him, that they were a source of attraction. His stomach churned at the thought.

Evelyna sighed and tilted her head back to look at the sky. Fenris watched her out of his peripherals, glancing up to see her with her eyes shut, head tilted towards the sky. He realized that he could, indeed, see more than nothing with the clear water, but his eyes did not linger. He was no drooling lecher, even in her presence, even if she did seem to actively try to tempt him. He was a better man than that, he hoped.

Fenris sighed and put his blade down quietly. He stood and looked at Evelyna, and though her eyes were still shut, the corners of her lips were twitching upwards just the slightest.

"Don't look," he warned, knowing that she could hear him though she gave no sign that she did. He turned away and then removed his steel breastplate, and then his gauntlets, shoulder pieces and Orcish boots, and then shivered. He removed his black tunic and leggings, and decided to keep his smalls on, glancing behind him to make sure she still wasn't watching. Thankfully, her eyes were still shut.

Fenris stepped into the spring, and felt a flutter of relief in his chest at the warmth of the water. Like a hot bath, the water seemed to wash away the imperturbable cold. Fenris sank down in it, sitting against the stones. Roughly ten feet away, where Evelyna sat mostly submerged, she had done him the decency of not looking at him as he got in the pool. If she did, she had said nothing and hadn't given any indication that she had.

"It is warm," Fenris said after a moment, finding a somewhat comfortable spot on the stones, a safe distance across from Evelyna. Most of his chest was submerged, and he had not felt a pleasure like this in months. The baths he had taken in Whiterun and Solitude were nothing like this, with its warmth. This water was bordering on hot. This was the first time since he crashed in Skyrim that the cold felt like it was being driven out of his bones.

At last, Evelyna opened her eyes and smile at him. He was thankful for the fading light, the pale, late-spring sun falling down across the western edge of the world. Of this world, Tamriel. His markings were revealed, but if Evelyna was repulsed, she didn't show it.

The wolves Evelyna had sensed howled in the distance, their solemn voices echoing through Eastmarch. It was answered by a distant rumble, a roar.

Evelyna groaned, and Fenris felt himself go tense. "_Fasta vaas_," he growled.

Evelyna rolled her eyes. "It's too far, I don't think it will bother coming this way."

It was a struggle to convince himself to stay in the hot spring. "They can fly - what's to stop him? I'm sure your horse would be a good meal for a hungry dragon." Fenris looked to the cow-colored beast, where it stood chomping on some dried grass not terribly far from them. Meeko's ears were perked up, searching for the sounds.

"I'm sure she would be," Evelyna agreed, looking sadly at her own horse. "I should get you one. In Windhelm."

"Please, Evelyna, I am in your debt enough as it is."

She chuckled and then scooped some water in her hands, splashing her face with it, scrubbing away the dirt from traveling. "You have no debt with me."

"You are mistaken, Evelyna," he rumbled, sinking a bit lower to submerge his own shoulders. This was warmer than the ocean in Tevinter, more soothing than any bath he had ever taken. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back. The wolves in the distance howled again, and he felt a slow shiver despite the heat of the water.

A breeze blew across Eastmarch, causing the pines to tremble, their leaves rustling. Twilight was beginning to settle on the world around him, long minutes passed before he opened his eyes and sat up straight.

Behind Evelyna, on the other side of the long tundra, rose jagged snow-capped mountains, burning pink in the waning sunlight while the rest of the world rested in shadow.

"I wonder..." Evelyna began after some time, "I wonder if your lifespan will expand... being here."

"An interesting thought," Fenris said, splashing water on his own face and running wet hands through his hair. "I doubt it, though. I was not born here."

"No, that's true," Evelyna agreed. "But still..."

"We both have a lot of questions."

"Ask me one of yours, perhaps I could answer."

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest, and sank a few inches deeper in the water. "How does... necromancy work, if it does not require blood?"

"It does require blood," Evelyna said hesitantly, "and I hear that it corrupts the soul of those that use it. But... it does not summon demons... like the mages in Thedas do. It will reanimate a wolf, say, or a draugr. But these things are no stronger than they would have been living."

Fenris sighed. "It sounds wrong, still."

"It's banned by the College, I've heard."

He smirked wryly. "I suppose we'll find out when we're there."

Evelyna chuckled. "Alright, I get a question." She dipped down in the water, tilting her head back to submerge all of her hair. When she rose, her black hair clung to her straight and slick. "How did you kill your master?"

He had not been expecting that. Green, almond-shaped eyes flew to hers in a wary search. She had missed a spot of dirt on her narrow jaw, and he was sure if he looked down he could see the shape of her naked body. But he kept his eyes up, and swallowed hard.

"I tore out his throat." He remembered those cold eyes, wide with fear. That bearded chin trembling as the man met his deserved death. Fenris lifted his arm out of the water, curling his fingers. "I lifted him up, with one hand," he explained, reliving the moment. He ignited his markings, and hot spring glowed blue mysteriously. Evelyna watched in silent, almost fearful awe. "And then I let him fall."

He dimmed himself, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling naked. Evelyna was smiling faintly, hardly at all. "I wish I had seen it," she admitted. "You are in your element, when you fight. Aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Aye, me too." She stood up then, unexpectedly, and Fenris looked away a moment too late. Evelyna stepped out of the hot spring, chuckling quietly to herself. She went to the horse, water dripping down her back, hips, thighs...

Fenris couldn't bear not to look, at least for a moment. Evelyna plucked a bottle of wine from one of the satchels, and as she was turning to head back towards the hot spring, Fenris shifted his gaze, thankful he was still in his smalls, and submerged mostly underwater.

Evelyna got back in the hot spring, settling down where she was before. "There's nothing like a good fight, a hot bath, sweet wine, and a warm bed. Am I right?"

Fenris opened his eyes and saw that she was handing him the bottle of wine. He took it gladly, knowing that he'd have to drink up if he were to survive this conversation.

_There is only so much of this a man can take._ "There are few pleasures greater than speaking with a beautiful woman, I'll agree."

Evelyna threw her head back and let out a laugh. "Beautiful is not exactly what I was expecting, but I'll take it. Gladly."

He chuckled lightly deep in his throat and took a long sip of wine before handing the bottle back. The stars were beginning to peek through the darkening sky, and he knew it would be a beautiful night, with or without the aurora dancing above.

* * *

"Welcome to Windhelm, Fenris."

He pulled the wolf furs about him tighter, shivering. His fingers and ears had gone numb days ago, since they had put the hot springs behind them. Ice had been caked on the bottom of his Orcish boots, making his footing treacherous at the very least.

"I dislike it already," Fenris replied into his furs. The wind howled across the icy harbor down below, whipping frozen mist into their faces. The sun had set an hour ago, but even when it had been high in the sky it gave off no noticeable amount of warmth, only making the snow blinding to look at.

Evelyna chuckled, but even she looked frozen half to death. She suppressed a shiver and crossed her arms over her chest. Fenris noticed the goosebumps on her exposed skin, and remembered the hot springs. After he had called her beautiful, little had happened. They had watched the stars, and Evelyna showed him the constellations. In Thedas, he had seen these constellations before, though they were placed in the sky differently, and he had other names for them. But what stood out about that night was not the stars, but Evelyna, naked and laughing and kind, wild but not a brute. Clearing his throat, he looked away, at the stones covered in ice at his feet. Massive studded doors guided them into a courtyard, with a huge brazier burning against the cold, and a steeple-shaped building with smoke pouring from its chimney.

Like Solitude, everything in Windhelm was made of stone. But snowdrifts gathered in the corners, against the walls and homes, and the city was barren of any life aside from some lucky, dry vegetation growing between the cracks of the roads. Icicles as tall as Evelyna hung from the edges of the roofs precariously. Everything was gray and white, aside from the braziers burning with hot embers and the blue, open sky above.

"I know a place warm," Evelyna told him, stepping around a Dunmer woman looking through her satchel. Fenris followed her up some slippery stairs and into a building called Candlehearth Hall.

The heat was a wondrous thing. Fenris sighed in relief as he stepped into the tavern. Though it was dark inside, it was warm.

Evelyna went first towards the left, to a woman behind the bar. She was running a rag along its wooden surface, but paused as her eyes flitted over the both of them.

"Welcome to Candlehearth Hall," she drawled in an accent that vaguely reminded Fenris of the poor in Kirkwall, "Got some good bread and cheese if you'd like a bite to eat."

"Ah, please," Evelyna smiled at the barkeep, putting some coins down on the counter. "And two bottles of spiced wine, if you have it. Also two rooms for the night."

"Of course," the woman reached beneath the counter and found them what they were looking for; bread, cheese, two bottles of wine and two keys. "Now, enjoy your stay and don't break nothing."

Evelyna smirked and led Fenris up a flight of old stairs. On the outside, Candlehearth Hall was made of frozen stone, but the inside walls were insulated by stained wood, perhaps as old as the city itself. A massive hearth burned in the center of the spacious upstairs, its heat palpable and welcomed. Fenris swirled the wine in his bottle as his gaze slid over the sight before him.

Chandeliers made from iron and hollowed out horns hung from the vaulted ceiling, or stood atop iron stands in the corners bathing the room in a dim glow.

Evelyna sat down at a small, intimate table not far from the fire and the bard, a Dunmer woman with light hair and bright red eyes. Fenris sat across from his companion, and Meeko immediately curled up at their feet.

"We will stay here tonight," Evelyna said softly, "and leave at dawn. Windhelm is not a city fit for us to stay in."

"Because of the Stormcloaks, you said?"

"Yes. There's a lot of racism here, though. We will not be welcomed as elves."

Fenris nodded, pulling the cork from his wine bottle. The heat at his back was beginning to drive out the cold he felt beneath his furs and armors, but the wine would speed up that process. He took a long swallow and found the corners of his lips pulling slightly into a faint smile. "Why? I've seen more Dark Elves here than in any town yet."

The bard in the corner pulled out a lute, but no one seemed to be truly listening. Evelyna pulled apart a block of bread and bit into it slowly, thinking. "The Dunmer... when they cross from Morrowind, this is the first city they come across. Usually, they'll stop and settle here because it's too cold to go on."

"Oh." Fenris took a bite himself, and dropped a piece by Meeko's head. "And how far off is our next town? With the mages?" His tone soured as he said the word.

Everyday had some bit of struggle in it, where Fenris spoke of how little he actually wanted to go to Winterhold. But he knew that Evelyna couldn't change their course. It was absolutely necessary, and he'd have to live with it.

Evelyna pressed her lips together in consideration. "Not too far. But we're only there to ask questions, remember. To find out about the Elder Scroll and to find a Moth Priest."

Fenris nodded and looked at the bard, distracted, as she began to sing.

_"We drink to our youth, and to days come and gone._  
_For the age of oppression is now nearly done._  
_We'll drive out the Empire from this land that we own._  
_With our blood and our steel we will take back our home."_

_All hail to Ulfric You are the High King!_  
_In your great honour we drink and we sing._  
_We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives._  
_And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies!_  
_But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean._  
_Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams._

_All hail to Ulfric! You are the High King!  
In your great honor we drink and we sing."_

Fenris drank his wine, watching the crowd carefully as the song ended. No on booed the Dark Elf, all raised their tankards in honor of the High King. Fenris noticed a quiet man, fully armored in steel with a longsword at his back, bald and scarred, grunt at the end of the song. But other than him, everyone cheered the girl.

The Civil War, until this point, had been hardly at the back of Fenris' mind. He had not seen any fighting, only small handfuls of soldiers from either side walk the roads sporadically. His green gaze met Evelyna's uncertainly.

"If you were forced to choose a side," he began, turning his bottle around on the table, "which side would you join? The day may come when you must choose." As it had for Hawke, and himself.

Evelyna bit her bottom lip, hazel eyes focused on the burning hearth at the center of the hall. "Well... it was the Empire that lifted their axe for my neck, though they had no reason to kill me. I was not on their list, I was not supposed to die. I was just a Bosmer, trying to flee the country."

"So you'd join the Stormcloaks?"

She sighed, keeping her voice low. "I would not fight for this Usurper if I could help it. Besides, he has no place in his army for lowly elves, I'm sure."

The bitterness in her voice took him aback, but only for a second. Fenris nodded, taking a swallow of wine. Evelyna continued.

"We have dragons to worry about. Both sides should ceasefire in order to address this problem. There will be no world to fight over once Alduin conquers it, will there?"

"No," Fenris agreed, "I suppose not. But it seems as if the dragons haven't really given too many people a problem. No one is building any walls, no one's smithing better weapons..."

Evelyna nodded, hazel eyes focused on his own. He shifted in his seat, turning the bottle of wine around, watching the dark liquid through the green glass swirl about. "We've lost a town to Alduin, and no one seems to really care. It disgusts me."

Fenris took a sip of wine, finally beginning to feel warm inside and out. "Did you know anyone in Helgen?"

Evelyna shook her head, hair spilling over her shoulders. "No. You'll find I don't exactly know anyone, really. My family and I always kept to ourselves, and we didn't live in any city."

The Dunmer bard picked up a drum and began to sing a different song, one Fenris hadn't heard before. He saw the innkeep place a plate down before the armored man in the corner, and he thanked her with a nod.

Fenris sighed and leaned back in his chair. "For many years, I never stayed in any city long enough to become friends with anyone. My contact with people was restricted to stealing their coin, paying for the essentials, and hiring mercenaries to pick off the slavers that chased me."

It was a solemn, open look she gave him. Evelyna's lips curled in a slight frown as she locked her fingers around her own wine bottle. "I'm glad there are no slavers here to chase you."

"As am I."

Fenris remembered the Fog Warriors, his closest friends until he met Hawke. Of all the battles he had been in, all the men he had killed, that group haunted him. They cared for him in a way that had been truly foreign until Fenris met Hawke. They showed him independence and freedom. They ruled themselves. And he had murdered them in cold blood, all at the words of a magister.

Fenris bit out gruffly, "People do horrible things when they're being chased, I've found."

Evelyna's head tilted in curiosity. Inquisitive eyes searched Fenris' features; his jaw, narrow face, harsh eyes, dusty skin, snow white hair, strong nose. "Such as what, Fenris?" She asked softly, gently, so quietly that it could have been a whisper among the singing, the drumming and the cracking of the hearth.

"When I escaped my master in Seheron, I was injured somehow. The fighting was... intense, I thought the whole city was being put to the torch. I fled the city, but I was injured, and I nearly bled out. The Fog Warriors, the rebels, found me and nursed me back to health. I followed them and befriended them. I lived in awe of them. They were free to do as they pleased, with their affections, everything. They answered to no one, they did not punish each other. And then..." Fenris retreated into himself slightly, before remembering where he was. He cleared his throat, looking away. "Danarius arrived, and ordered me to kill them. Something in my mind clicked. I didn't want to do it, but I did. I killed them all. They never raised a blade to me."

To her credit, Evelyna's expression remained sad and stoic. If she was disgusted by his dark confession, she did not show it in the least. "What happened?" She asked softly.

"Danarius was injured... not by me, but by them. I looked around, and saw their bodies, their faces. They were my friends, and I murdered them. I couldn't... I ran. I left Danarius there, and I ran for years."

Fenris met Evelyna's gaze, daring her to call him cruel or wretched. She would not be away from the truth, if she did. She only sat across from him, watching him silently.

"You were still thinking as a slave," she ventured, "you cannot be blamed for it."

Fenris was surprised. What did she know about being a slave? Nothing. Though... she was correct, or at least, he hoped. It was a shockingly sensitive thing to say, and Fenris found himself mulling it over for a moment before he inclined his head.

"Thank you," he murmured, "but I will never forgive myself for it. I've only told Hawke this before, and that was many years ago now."_ I will never stop seeing their faces in my nightmares. I'll never stop hearing the sound of my blade cutting through them._

Evelyna's lips pressed together in thought, but there was a swell of noise downstairs, across the inn. Voices, many voices, carried up the wooden stairs and into Candlehearth Hall where the rest of them ate, drank and listened to the Dunmer bard. Fenris shifted in his seat, looking behind him towards the stairs. After a moment, he saw a soldier appear, clothed in Stormcloak garb. He held a large flagon of ale in his hand, and twisted around to call out to someone behind him.

"Oh, no," Fenris faintly heard Evelyna say. Things grew quiet upstairs as another soldier appeared, drinking from a tankard as well.

Fenris looked at Evelyna, and saw the trepidation in her eyes. What was she afraid of?

What had been only two soldiers turned into three, four, eight, eleven. Suddenly, the upstairs of Candlehearth Hall was teeming with Stormcloaks, all wielding mugs of ale. Some were bandaged up; one with an eye-patch, one amputee missing a hand, one with soiled wrappings on his legs, three on their arms. Fenris' gaze slid over each one carefully, these men free of their iron helms, but with swords, maces or axes hanging at their hips.

They were loud; their voices carried to the rafters above. They cheered and boasted of their exploits, boisterous and belligerent. They were drunk, but not off of wine and ale. They were blood-drunk. Fenris looked at Evelyna, who was also watching them. Irritation and slight anxiety warred in her eyes, but the rest of her face was a mask of indifference.

Fenris nudged her calf with his booted foot. She turned quickly, as if startled, and Fenris leaned across the table. "I think they've just come back from a battle."

Evelyna nodded. "I think that as well. I think they've won."

Fenris took a swig of his wine. "We should not linger here, if that is the case." It didn't sound safe to be around so many Stormcloaks, not in this city where elves were despised. Fenris suppressed a growl as a soldier began boasting about his kill.

"There is little more volatile than a blood-drunk soldier," Fenris said to his companion.

"We'll appear suspicious if we leave now. Give it a few minutes, Fenris. They aren't ale-drunk yet."

Minutes did pass without issue. Evelyna even ordered them each a flagon of ale after they finished their bottles. Fenris felt light-headed in a way that only wine made him feel, and he was so very grateful for it. All this adventuring with Evelyna, though he enjoyed it, left little time for quiet, solitary rumination with a nice bottle of wine and his bare feet stretched before a hot hearth. His stomach was warm, his whole body finally warm for the first time since the hot springs.

The Hot Springs. Fenris swallowed nervously as the innkeep set two flagons of ale down in front of them. He busied himself by gazing into his glass at the amber ale. But when he blinked he saw her naked, in the Hot Springs and at the lake near Riften.

She was a tempting creature. Fenris glanced at her and saw her lift her glass, taking a sniff of her drink. Her lips curled in a smile, and her eyes fluttered open as if she knew he was watching her.

He had told her one of his darkest secrets, and she had handled it well. She was not horrified and disgusted by him, which is what he had expected. She still sat with him, still spent her money so that they could both have a pleasant night instead of casting him away like the brute that he was.

The music kicked up. The Dunmer bard strummed her lute and sang, but one of the soldiers picked up the drum, someone else began to play the flute, and Candlehearth Hall erupted in a fit of song and dance.

Fenris was thankful for the distraction, feeling as though Evelyna could sense his thoughts of her nakedness in the water, as if she could tell that he felt his pulse quickening with the memory. The Stormcloaks drank freely, clapping each other on the back heavily, chortling and shouting with each other. Fenris tried to hide his annoyance.

And then a soldier stumbled into Evelyna, apparently missing one of his dancing steps. Fenris went rigid, feeling an alarming need to stand up, but knew it would draw too much attention.

"Watch it," Evelyna hissed, shoving the man away. This man was one of the ones with an injured arm, a Nord with pale blond braids and stony eyes. Fenris scowled as the man approached after a brief, clumsy stumble, clearly deep in his drinks.

"Don't put your hands on me, you little elf-bitch," He slurred, glancing between Fenris and Evelyna.

Fenris didn't like the soldier's tone._ Bitch_ was not a label he branded with women; only Varania, Hadriana and other female magisters. Even when Aveline would insult Isabela, Fenris would wince at the word. Regardless, Evelyna was_ not_ one. She was many things; wild, fierce, occasionally temperamental, rash - but not a bitch.

Fenris pushed his chair back, but caught a warning glance from Evelyna. Her grip tightened slightly around her mug of ale, as if she were about to throw it in the man's face.

Another soldier paused, hearing the conversation, and joined his comrade, grinning with a row of broken teeth.

"Watch your feet," Evelyna replied, almost sounding bored. "I know it's difficult when you have such a big head."

The man reached out, making a fist in Evelyna's wolf pelt around her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed, anger flashing in them dangerously. But Fenris was quick. The man's friend laughed loudly, clutching his stomach. Fenris shouldered past him, sending the man stumbling, and curled his fingers around the other man's throat, squeezing, bending him back away from Evelyna. He growled, "Take your hands away," hoping that this would not draw much attention.

"Fenris," Evelyna's voice was a warning, quiet and serious. The Stormcloak let go of Evelyna's fur and gagged, trying to gasp for air. Evelyna was then on her feet as well, trying to pull Fenris' hands away from the Stormcloak's throat. The man's stony eyes were wild with fear, feeling his windpipe closing in.

"Fenris, we don't want this fight," she said, and he let go reluctantly. Then someone whistled, and a tankard of ale narrowly missed Fenris' head.

Evelyna, through no more magic other than her own nimble body, pulled an axe on the Stormcloak, holding it to his throat as he turned from her, taking him hostage.

Candlehearth Hall fell to an abrupt quiet. Fenris felt all of their eyes on him and Evelyna. The man being held hostage whimpered pathetically, throwing his hands up at the feeling of a sharp axe against his jugular.

Another Stormcloak drew an arrow on a bow, and Fenris drew out his sword. He had been in worse situations than this before. But would they be able to leave the city if they slaughtered eleven Stormcloaks? They'd be hung for murderers and traitors for sure.

"Hold your fire," Evelyna shouted, "I am the Dragonborn, the Dovahkiin. Lower your damned weapons!"

"Bullshit," one Stormcloak laughed, taking a step forward, pulling his arm back to chuck his tankard at her.

"I am!" Evelyna didn't see her hostage's hand come up to clumsily strike the side of her head, nor his other hand to draw her sword from his belt.

Fenris kicked the man in his side, making him curse obscenities and gasp for air. It was a safer bet than leaning down and taking the sword, and Fenris could do it again if the man attempted to pull out his sword a second time.

The other Stormcloaks didn't know what to think, clearly. The few that thought she could be telling the the truth halted, but they were not convinced. The others were signaling to each other in brief but not subtle glances to attack.

"Shout at them," Fenris said, then again, "do it!"

Evelyna glanced at him, and then at the Stormcloaks. "I will, I'll do it," she threatened, "let us be in peace. We've done naught to you. Your man here threatened _me_."

Evelyna's hostage whimpered, a blubbering fool now that he was faced with potential death. Fenris kicked him again for good measure, suddenly thankful for his Orcish boots, wondering if the man was as big of a fool on the battlefield.

"The Dovahkiin's a Wood Elf? A woman?" One of the soldiers spat at the ground, showing them what he thought of that.

The bald, armored man appeared beside Evelyna, and Fenris cursed himself for not noticing his approach. The man drew his sword, but it wasn't to hurt Evelyna. He angled his armored body towards the Stormcloaks, as if he were there to defend her and Fenris.

"I am," Evelyna replied, making a fist with her free hand in her hostage's hair.

"Prove it!"

_"Fus!_"

Candlehearth Hall shuddered, and the ten soldiers across from her all stumbled before the Voice, the weakest version of that Shout that Fenris had once endured as well. He felt a swell of pride and amusement, deep down in the pit of his being as all the soldiers staggered to their feet, cursing and clutching each other for support.

"See?" Evelyna snapped at them.

"Lower your weapons, men," said one of the Stormcloaks uneasily.

The looks the soldiers gave her ranged from hatred to awe. Fenris wondered if one would kneel while the other chucked an axe. The man at her feet whimpered again.

"By Talos," one of the Stormcloaks muttered, completely in awe.

Another inclined his head, "Our apologies, Dragonborn."

She released her hostage and scowled at them, shaking her axe at them. "I'm more of a Nord than any of you!" The man beside her chuckled, and Fenris narrowed his eyes uncertainly. "If Alduin comes to take Windhelm, I won't try to stop him, not if this damned city's filled with men like you."

There was a grumbling of an argument, but no one truly raised their voice or their blade. Evelyna shoved the man at her feet with her foot, square in his back, and he hunched forward weeping, glad for his spared life.

Fenris looked at his companion, heart racing. What had she done? What had they both done? Regret swelled in him like a storm. They'd never be able to leave the city alive.

"No one attempt to follow us," Evelyna warned, glancing at Fenris and the other man beside her. "I can shave your faces with my axe from twenty feet, and my arrows find their mark more than not. My Voice_ never_ misses."

"I'll see you out, Dragonborn, if I may," the man beside her offered, nodding at them both. Fenris clenched his jaw, wary of this traveler, whose sword resembled his own.

Evelyna nodded. "Yes," she said as she threw her bag onto her back and looked back at the soldiers warily.

They were lucky to escape without a true fight, Fenris knew. But he itched for it, he wanted to unload some built-up fury. On the road to Windhelm, they had encountered a bandit and a small pack of wolves, but it had been nothing they couldn't handle. And being in Evelyna's presence around the clock made Fenris anxious after a while, having to be on his guard in case she flirted with him again. He didn't want to appear the virginal boy to her anymore.

Cautiously, the three of them turned and left the upstairs of Candlehearth Hall, leaving behind the Stormcloaks muttering and murmuring, some cursing and others harrumphing. Evelyna had caused quite the stir. Fenris couldn't help but glance over his shoulder several times, but no one dared pursue them.

"I don't think we can stay here, Fenris," Evelyna said.

The man chuckled beside Fenris. He was a big man, strong-shouldered with heavy, steel-plated armor with fur beneath it. He was older, with a clean beard and a thick brow.

"It's probably not a good idea for you both to be here," the man said with a friendly grin. "Not after that. Drunk, victorious soldiers aren't known for being level-headed."

Evelyna snorted in laughter. "They'd be fools to follow us. But you're right,...?"

"Stenvar," the man said with a nod. "If you're looking for mercenary work around here, I'm your man."

"I will keep that in mind," she said, heading straight for the heavy doors. Fenris followed her, with Stenvar behind them, out into the blustery cold. "You didn't have to step in, in there."

Stenvar shrugged. "I've been getting lazy in there, off their ale and salmon. It isn't everyday the Dragonborn gets into a brawl at my favorite watering hole. It's a story to tell, if nothing more."

"Well, we appreciate your help," Evelyna said, heading towards the gates to the city. Fenris looked over his shoulder, but no one was following them out of Candlehearth Hall. "My name is Evelyna, this is Fenris."

Fenris nodded his acknowledgement to Stenvar, wondering if the man would leave them alone now. But he didn't.

"Talos guide you both," Stenvar inclined his head, before stopping near the burning brazier to see them off. Evelyna kept walking, but paused to wave.

"You too, Stenvar."

"Remember, my blade's for hire if you have need of it. If you ever dare to step into this city again." He laughed then, and waved, turning back towards Candlehearth Hall.

Evelyna chuckled nervously and turned, walking briskly towards the gates of the city. Fenris' stomach churned, wondering if any moment now the soldiers would come bursting out of the inn, signaling to the guards to capture them. But there was no shouting, no alarm bells; only the cold howling of the wind blowing up from the sea, whipping a mist of snow into their faces.

"I can't believe we escaped that," Fenris said, glancing over his shoulder as they put the gates behind them. He was cold again, dammit.

"Neither can I. We're lucky. The Stormcloaks show more respect to the dragonborn than say, maybe the Imperials. The dragonborn is a part of their history, to be dragonborn is to be the... incarnate of the perfect Nord, say. Their behavior tonight should shame them. What irritates me is that they may have tried to kill us, if we were... anyone else."

Fenris nodded, glancing over his shoulder again. But there was no one there. The fires within Windhelm burned dim in the howling, frozen wind.

At the stables, Evelyna whistled loudly, and a man emerged from his home just above.

"Aye, someone there?" He asked, leaning over the stones to look down into the stables.

"Ah, hello there," Evelyna said. "I'd like to buy a horse for my friend here."


	13. Only Skin

**Any Game of Thrones fans here? You'll like (hate/cry over) my little quote for this chapter. I just finished A Feast For Crows. AH OMFG. I'm completely addicted to those books, and I can't believe we have to wait so long for the other books to come out.**

**Anyway. Thank you all, for continuing to read this. Thank you to Blinded in a bolthole, HereLies, , Pint-sized She-Bear, Martenzo, Arquise and Cegorach! You're all amazing, and I would've given up on this story a while ago if it weren't for your encouragement.**

* * *

_"And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?_

_Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know_

_in a coat of gold, a coat of red, the lion still has claws,_

_and mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours."_

_- The Rains of Castamere_

* * *

"You don't know about the Wolf Queen, do you, Fenris?"

He shifted in the saddle awkwardly, gripping the reins too tight. It took Evelyna all of three minutes to discover that Fenris didn't know how to ride a horse. What he had thought would be second nature turned out not to be as such. He found himself staring at Evelyna, imitating her. But he felt like he was going to fall off no matter how much he tried to move with the saddle.

Evelyna rode slowly beside him, and didn't tease him for it, while she gave him suggestions. She showed him where to kick the horse, reminded him to not pull the reins if he wanted to move, told him to sit up straight and "stop slouching."

The poor animal was warm under him; a thick chestnut mare with shaggy hair and white, feathered hooves. Her eyes were dark and solemn, and she watched Fenris warily at times, occasionally pausing to turn her head and look at him. He wondered what the horse would say if she could talk. Maybe,_ Why are you trying to ride me you fool?_

They rode west of Windhelm, and then over a bridge into a small settlement beside a roaring waterfall. That night they had slept up in the sawmill of that village, because there were no lights on in the houses, and Evelyna felt that sleeping in a sawmill was better than beneath a pine tree.

They had left early in the morning, with only a few hours of sleep, before the village woke up. Fenris felt more comfortable on the horse with every hour that passed, though slowly. Midday, they had caught up to a band of Imperial soldiers while riding up a sloping ridge covered in snow. The soldiers were nowhere near as rowdy as the Stormcloaks in Windhelm, and they didn't mind Evelyna and Fenris riding a bit of a distance behind them.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly. He leaned forward in the saddle as the horse began to ascend the hard, icy path.

"The Wolf Queen. Queen Potema." Evelyna smiled. Earlier that day while riding she had braided both sides of the top of her hair, where they met at the back of her head, like a crown. She looked almost halfway like a proper woman of Thedas, almost like a noble, if it weren't for the dirt on her face and the furs, steel and leathers she wore. And no proper lady Fenris had ever seen had a bow and quiver at her back and deadly axes on her hips.

"No, I haven't. Why does this concern me?"

Evelyna shrugged. "You said your name means_ 'little wolf.'_ I thought you'd like to know."

"It supposedly means that."

"I'm sure it's safe to say," she smirked, eyes scanning ahead, glancing at the soldiers in front of them in the distance.

Fenris inhaled through his nose sharply. "It is only a name. It means nothing."_ My little wolf. My pet._

Evelyna nodded. "But they say that people grow into their names. They live up to them."

"Oh?" Fenris tilted his head at Evelyna, smirking._ Am I a wolf, then? Are you a dragon? Would you devour me?_ "And what does Evelyna mean?"

She sucked her teeth and then chuckled. "It means_ 'beautiful bird_.'"

"That's ironic." He allowed a small laugh, for a second forgetting to focus on riding. "Are there no female Bosmer names for_ 'beautiful dragon,_' instead?"

She laughed, throwing her head back. "I'm flattered you think I could be called such a thing. But no."

"What would your name sound like in the dragon language? Do you know?"

"I do know know what mine would be... I don't know the word for 'bird,' actually. Yours would be _'Mal Grohiik_,' if you were looking for 'little wolf.'"

He frowned. "It sounds awful."

"It's an old language, Fenris. Anyway. The Wolf Queen, Potema, would you like to hear about her?"

He sighed. She would tell him the story anyway, he was sure. "Go on, if you must."

"Do you remember Solitude? All the wolf banners?"

"I remember them clearly." The red, white and black had hung across nearly every wall, flanking the gates to the city. He could never forget the wolf head snarling at him as he entered The Winking Skeever; his first look at the wildlife of this strange and foreign land. Wolves were everywhere; hanging on the walls, prowling the wilds - what was one more? No one would pay him any mind.

"Well, that's because she was the Wolf Queen of Solitude. Her mother was a sorceress. One night, her mother gave Potema a soul gem that had the soul of a werewolf in it. I've told you about werewolves - half-man, half-wolf, yes?"

He remembered the stories she told him one night, out in the tundra. Those sounded like vile creatures as well, close to abominations. With a brief nod, she continued.

"Anyway, it let her charm anyone she wanted to. Her son, Uriel, was the King, but she wanted him to be the Emperor. But her brother was Emperor, Antiochus. He was decent and he ruled for twenty-one years. When Potema was visiting her brother, he died, and she challenged his daughter's rights to the throne as the Empress, calling her a bastard. Her soul gem did not help her here, and her niece was allowed to rule. Anyway, the Empress eventually died in a war, and Potema's son became the Emperor. Potema's brothers began rebellions, and Tamriel was engulfed in civil war. Eventually, Uriel died, burned in his carriage, and Potema's brother was named Emperor. She dabbled in necromancy, and after hearing of all this, summoned Daedric warriors and her own dead enemies to fight with her. She grew mad, her only friends were the undead. She eventually died during a siege of Solitude, in her Blue Palace."

Fenris shivered. "That's where we had gone, correct? Where the Jarl rules?"

"Yes." Evelyna nodded.

"Why did they call her the 'Wolf Queen'?"

Evelyna shrugged. "Supposedly her father, I believe, looked at her as a babe and thought she looked like a she-wolf about to pounce. It stuck with her."

"She does not sound like she was a good ruler."

"No, not at all," Evelyna chuckled. "Cruel, and mad. Without reason."

"Why is their sigil a wolf, then?"

Evelyna smiled at him and then shook her head. "I could not tell you. It was one of the city's most infamous times, I'm sure. After Potema died, they said that her madness was... a part of the castle. King Pelagius the Mad ruled next, and he was bizarre. He would strip naked during speeches."

Fenris couldn't help but laugh a bit, baritone voice rumbling. "Bizarre, indeed." He shook his head and looked ahead at the band of Imperial soldiers, who paid them no mind as they climbed up towards the ridge. "Though I suppose it is a hard comfort to learn that your home is not much less corrupt than mine."

Evelyna sighed, sounding almost resigned. "People will do anything for a bit of power, sadly."

Ahead one of the soldiers began shouting to his comrades. In the distance what appeared to be an old hideout or fort was built into the mountain slope to the right. It was surrounded by walls oak pillars, sharpened to a point to make them impossible to scale over. The fort was old, and crumbling away in some parts, its stones gathering in piles, covered in a few inches of snow.

Fenris' gaze followed where the soldiers were pointing and unsheathing their weapons, but he could not see the danger. And then he did; a hominid stood on one of the stone walls of the fort, made of bones, aiming an arrow at the Imperials.

Fenris had never seen such an animal. It was different than the Shades and Abominations he had seen, but he had heard of these creatures. In Ferelden they lived. The Hero of Ferelden was said to have slain thousands of these skeletal warriors alongside King Alistair.

Evelyna vaulted from her horse, and Meeko was already sprinting, his paws crunching in the snow. Fenris followed suit, swinging himself uneasily from his chestnut mare and stumbling for a moment. He was sore from riding all day, aching from doing nothing. It was how he felt ages ago, though it hadn't been two months, when Evelyna found him coming into consciousness. Though now he was not injured, and he felt like he was going to rupture if he didn't release some of his energy.

Fenris began running after Evelyna and the wolfhound, a good distance behind the Imperials. The skeleton on the wall shattered and fell to a third arrow, one of them Evelyna's. A group of robed people burst from the gates of the fort, with skeletal warriors on their heels. One of them, clothed in black roughspun with a vague print of a green skull on its front, was cackling with laughter, as blue electricity danced between his hands.

_Mages_, Fenris thought angrily. _No, Necromancers._

He unsheathed his sword as the Imperials met their foes ahead. Meeko leaped at one of the skeletons, his teeth clamping down on the abomination's skinless arm.

Evelyna ran and attached her bow to her back, hands moving deftly to her axes. Her furs flapped against her legs, her hair whipped behind her as the wind blew into their faces. Fenris followed at her heels, his greatsword out and ready, itching to do some damage on someone.

By the time he and Evelyna reached the fight, two skeletons lay scattered and shattered along the snow and stones, and two Imperial soldiers had one necromancer backed into a corner, where the foul mage wielded electricity in one hand and a silver mace in the other, swinging clumsily. Evelyna was charging one necromancer, a hooded high elf with yellow eyes. The mage shot a burst of flames, and Evelyna dove out of the way, hissing as she fell into a snow-covered boulder.

The closest creature to Fenris was a skeleton pulling its sword from the unprotected neck of one of the Imperials. The man's body slumped to the ground like he was boneless. The skeleton heard Fenris' approach, and turned just in time to parry the great and deadly arch of his sword. Fenris gave the damned creature no time to brace itself and gather its bearings. He pressed hard, shoving with his sword before swinging again, knocking the sword out of the skeleton's bony fingers. Hollow eye sockets stared at Fenris, the smell of decay and death radiating from the creature, each movement it made sounding like a heavy, ancient door swinging on rusty hinges.

Fenris put his weight behind his sword arm, years of harsh conditioning and training making him a deadly wraith on the battlefield. The skeleton shattered and broke as Fenris swung his sword down, into the creature's collarbone. He cleaved the skeleton's ribcage, snapping the spine with a loud _crack_. The skeleton fell in a pile of shattered bones, and Fenris looked down upon it with deep satisfaction. His blood was pumping, heart racing. He wasn't cold anymore. This was where he belonged, on the battlefield.

"_Fus ro dah_!"

His jade, almond-shaped eyes lifted from the mound of bones at his feet, and he saw two necromancers, fighting from the gates of the fort, _fly._ The world seemed to rumble at the force of Evelyna's Shout, and the necromancers were tossed like a child's dolls. Fenris felt his lips curling into a grin as he saw the vile mages crash into the ground across the yard of the fort, screaming in agony as their bones broke.

His eyes shifted towards Evelyna, who slung her axes back on her hips, lip curled in a snarl as she pulled out her bow and aimed. What a thing she was to behold; a force of nature in and of herself. Fenris took a step forward, ready to run after the necromancers she had Shouted at.

Then pain shot through him from his left arm like lightning. He gasped and pushed forward, away from the strike, pivoting on his heels.

The Imperial soldier that had been slain was now on his feet with blood pouring from the wound in his neck. The undead soldier had eyes hollow and dark, and Fenris found himself backing up away from him. Beyond the soldier, a necromancer was casting a cold spell of ice at the four remaining Imperials- the living ones.

The undead soldier gripped an iron sword that was now tainted with blood. Fenris' blood. He could feel it, dripping down under his gauntlet, warming his arm and hand. He did not dare to look, not with this abomination upon him. Even still, the pain was staggering, but nothing Fenris had not experienced before.

He regained his grip on his sword, squaring his shoulders and planting his feet. The risen corpse raised its sword high over its head, behind its shoulder. Fenris wasted no time, as always. Fast as lightning, he swung his massive sword, biting his tongue with the pain it took to do so, and brought his blade down onto the soldier's sword arm. The force of it took the arm off, and Fenris swung quickly to put the undead creature out of its misery.

Further on, the necromancer was backed up on a cliff, with the three Imperials surrounding her. Fenris left it to them to take care of it, and hurried into the fort after Evelyna, blood dripping from his arm onto the snow. Inside the courtyard, Evelyna was jogging towards one of the necromancers, the one that was struggling to its feet. Fenris moved to the other, which had been thrown with ease against a wall.

The pathetic, foul mage was attempting to heal itself, magic flowing over its body in waves. It had almost not seen Fenris coming towards it.

When the necromancer saw him, he realized it was a woman. A human woman; though Nord, Breton, or Imperial he could never tell. Her dark eyes went wide in fear, and Fenris heard the other necromancer shriek in pain. He wouldn't look over his shoulder to see what Evelyna had done.

Fenris scowled, only a few steps from the blasted abomination. She put her hands up as if in surrender, but Fenris would not accept it. He pointed his sword down towards the necromancer's throat and shoved it, giving the woman a quick death before turning and looking around the courtyard.

Evelyna was moving towards him now, and Fenris could see that her hair was mussed, blood had splattered on her face and chest, and the part of the furs around her legs were singed away, burnt.

"Are you injured?" He asked as they approached each other, staring at her legs. He hadn't even seen the fire that had done it; but some flames had eaten away a good chunk of her fur skirt, exposing the outside of her thigh almost to her belt. The skin on her leg was red and raw.

"Your arm, Fenris," she said, ignoring his question. Evelyna took his arm by the gauntlet, twisting to view his wound. Fenris took a breath, watching her silently. Two Imperial soldiers came into the courtyard, nodding towards him, but walking towards the doors that led into the fort, weapons drawn. They both looked horrified, having lost some of their friends, comrades. One of them was sobbing, the other cursing.

Fenris' gaze slanted back down to Evelyna directly in front of him, inspecting the wound on his arm. A drop of blood was sliding down her forehead, down her nose, but she wasn't cut. He felt an urge to wipe the blood away. Her face was flushed, tanned cheeks also pink with the exertion of the battle. And with the way her lips were parted, panting more than breathing, he wanted to grab her jaw in his hand and press his lips to hers, take the kiss she threatened him with.

Fenris sighed and looked away. _Damned woman_, he thought. If she didn't flirt with him, or tempt him, he wouldn't feel this way, of that he was almost sure._ It's the battle_, he told himself._ I'm drunk from fighting._

He twitched when he felt the magic seeping into his flesh, and he made tight fists in his hands. Evelyna glanced up at him.

"Relax, or you'll make it bleed more."

His fists unfurled, and he focused on the soldiers disappearing into the fort. "I've never seen that Shout used on... anything smaller than a dragon. At least, the full Shout."

"It's a bit unfair, I think," she chuckled, breathless.

"It's impressive," Fenris glanced at his companion in front of him, swallowing past the way her close proximity made his heart beat a bit faster than before.

"Ah, you're lucky this time," Evelyna said after a moment, stepping back. Her palms were covered in blood, his blood. She crouched down and wiped them off in the snow, streaking it red. "I closed it."

He looked, and saw where the magic had sewn the flesh together, causing a thin interruption in his lyrium markings, a streak of milky, freshly scarred skin. Fenris rolled his shoulders and sighed. "My thanks," he muttered, pulling at his gauntlet to get the blood off of his arm. Evelyna smirked and stood up.

His eyes were drawn to her thigh, and the raw skin on it. "You're burned," he reminded her in a serious tone._ Even dragons can be burned._

"I need to give it a moment for my magicka to... come back to me. I'm weary." She sounded faraway. "Let's see what these necromancers have for looting, first."

* * *

"That's... impressive."

"Hmm?" Evelyna looked at him, eyes curious beneath the silver fur framing her face and shoulders. An Ice Wolf snarled back at Fenris. No matter where he went he couldn't get away from the wolves, his own namesake.

The night before, while Fenris had been tending to the fire, Evelyna had shot and killed the Ice Wolf with the help of Meeko and her very own meager magic. She had dragged it back to their camp, breathless and struggling. Fenris had watched her skin it and prepare it to be eaten, lost in his own thoughts. It had been two days since the battle at the fort, since he had the urge to kiss her not-so-tenderly, and the_ wanting_ of it had left him completely at a loss. He had never dealt with such a thing before, never wanted intimacy on that primal level. It was difficult to reconcile with, and Fenris had no idea where to start.

But now, he was not complimenting her. Fenris nodded past Evelyna where she sat perched on her cow-colored horse, his eyes climbing the mountains to the south, falling on the enormous statue. It was a woman in a dress, a crown of roses upon her brow, holding a star and a moon up as if showing all of Skyrim before her.

"That is Azura," Evelyna explained, gazing at the enormous stone statue, "she is the Daedric Prince of Dawn and Dusk."

"That's a Daedra?"

"Yes," Evelyna looked at Fenris, the wolf snarling around her face. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Fenris frowned, expression darkening. "Why is there a shrine to her if she's a Daedra? Isn't she an abomination?"

"Yes, but... she is said to be one of the more benevolent of the Daedra, and merciful. The Dunmer say she is 'good', not evil."

"How can that be?"

"I... it is difficult to explain, and even I do not understand. They live on different planes of existence, than we do. They do not comprehend our sense of mortality, we cannot understand theirs. They do not all take pleasure in tormenting us. Some do, but not all."

Fenris shook his head, looking away. The land before them sloped from the mountains to the south, covered in snow, towards the ocean; half-frozen. The ocean rumbled and cracked eerily as the ice broke and shifted in the water. Ahead of them a massive castle stood atop cliffs a bit out to sea, with a small town populating the road to it.

"And there," Evelyna said after a moment, "is Winterhold."

"And that?" He nodded towards the castle. _Don't say that's the college, don't say -_

"The Mage's College." She smirked at him. "I think I told you once how most of the city fell away into the sea, right?"

"You did."

"People say that the College caused it, but who really knows? I doubt that even mages can do that. And why would they, anyway?"

Fenris didn't answer, seeing her point. The bitter wind blew in from the ocean, frozen and salty, and the ice groaned out to sea. Fenris crossed his arms, drawing himself in tighter in his furs and armor. His horse below him walked on, the wind whipping her dark mane.

He hadn't named the animal, though he was starting to like her more and more as he grew comfortable in the makeshift saddle that Evelyna had made him. He wasn't anxious about falling off anymore, and he was glad for the warmth on his legs as he rode. It was interesting, feeling the barrel-chested animal breathing beneath him, watching her breath in steamy mist dissipate into the cold, swaying in the saddle with every step. Evelyna's horse seemed glad to be sharing the burden; Fenris had taken Hawke's shield and strapped it to his new horse as well as several other supplies.

"I think we should get a bit liquored up before we even attempt the College." Evelyna shook her head and chuckled.

"I'm not going there drunk," Fenris said, trying to keep from smirking.

Evelyna laughed, the wind whipping her black, untamed hair across her shoulders, teeth glinting in the sunlight. Behind her, Azura stood as a sentinel over the beautiful, wild province of Skyrim. Fenris remembered uneasily the other day, when he had wanted to kiss her. It had been on his mind rampantly since, something he could never push far away. As he struggled with his emotions, Evelyna shot him a wily look.

"I'm sure if you went there drunk, and someone said the wrong thing to you, we'd both be fugitives and have to flee Skyrim. Or at least, the hold."

He would never forget that night in Kirkwall. The city burned, seemed to begin collapsing on itself. How many people had died that night? Anders had been so surrendered, he had completely resigned himself upon that terrible thing he did. Fenris had not mourned him when Hawke had killed him, half-sobbing and trembling as he plunged the dagger into Anders, but he had not rejoiced either.

Evelyna sighed. "Regardless, our Elder Scroll search will have to wait until tomorrow. I need a drink, a soft bed and a hot fire."

"The end of days will have to wait?" Fenris' full lips curled in amusement. He let out a brief chuckle. "What a thoughtful hero you are."

She snorted in laughter, shaking her head. Hazel eyes danced with delight as the horses began a long, slow descent down towards the town that was Winterhold, curled up on the cliffs of an icy ocean.

"I need my sanity, Fenris." Then she laughed, a blush crawling up her neck and ears. "Usually all it takes to get my head right is being out in the open air, with a bow and arrow, and the snow caking on my boots..."

"But?"

"But I am followed by a man I cannot help but find attractive." She tilted her head at him and smirked. "It is distracting."

Fenris swallowed nervously, looking away. He would not last too long, subjected to this._ I am a wolf, she is a dragon. The two are killers, wild, lost._

* * *

The Frozen Hearth was a dismal tavern. It had not looked much unlike the taverns in Dragon Bridge, Ivarstead or Riverwood, but it lacked a bard and a warm, happy atmosphere. And soldiers. That was a good thing. Their last time in a tavern they had nearly gotten killed, at odds with an entire platoon of drunk Stormcloak soldiers. A tavern without soldiers was a good tavern, Fenris thought.

A young girl played with a carved wooden horse at the bar, and her blond Nord father tended the bar, his wife sweeping the floor and stoking the fire. Fenris and Evelyna feasted that night on roasted horker and seared slaughterfish, served with asparagus from the south and cooked ginger, as well as cold butter and a loaf of bread. Meeko ate happily off a plate of scraps that the barkeep was going to throw out, and Evelyna drank from tall steel tankards filled with ale, while Fenris drank spiced wine. The sour drink was beginning to grow on him slightly, though it tasted nothing like Aggregio Pavati.

They said little at first, feeling half-starved, hoping that the food would help to drive out the cold. It did, in the end. Before Fenris had even opened his mouth he had stuffed himself to the point of pain and stretched his feet out towards the fire from the bench they sat on, watching Evelyna out of his peripherals.

She was quiet also, content and lost in her own thoughts as she ate and sipped. She needed a bath, Fenris noticed. She didn't smell, but there was dirt and remnants of dried blood on her skin. Was it his blood, he wondered. It could very well be.

His eyes fell to her exposed thigh, where the fire had singed away a clump of the furs around her legs. She had never healed her burn with magic, never bothered to try. Everyday she wore a bandage over it. And every night he would notice her peel the bandages off of her thigh and hiss. But he never wanted her to know he was watching, or caring. The only thing worse than having some kind of feelings for this woman would be her _knowing_ such.

Instead, he took a different route. "What are those scars on your back from?"

Evelyna looked startled for a moment, her tankard of ale half-lifted towards her mouth. Over the steel rim of her glass her hazel eyes widened at Fenris, confused. "Oh... those," she put her tankard down slowly, careful not to spill, "it was a sabre cat that did that." Then her eyebrows lifted playfully. "So you _were_ looking at me."

Fenris choked on his own breath. He coughed once and took his green wine bottle in his hands, turning it around slowly. "You are not a very modest woman, Evelyna." _I couldn't help it._

She frowned, eyes glinting with worry. "It's natural, Fenris. We're animals. It's only skin."

He shook his head in disagreement. "Your body is more natural than mine. You do not have these." He put his wine bottle between his legs and turned his palms over, to show where the veins of lyrium disappeared at last at the edges of his fingertips. "For weeks, I could not touch anything without nearly passing out from the pain."

He didn't look at her as he said it, and he wasn't even sure why he had confided that in her. Why not? She already knew about the Fog Warriors and his sister. Or perhaps it was the frequent, spontaneous starvation he was subjected to on the road, or the wine in his bloodstream that made him foggy and confess everything. "I am only an animal in that I was built for murder."

He felt her fingers, feather-light on his exposed elbow. He twitched, but did not flinch away.

"You were built for it, but it isn't all you are. You'll go crazy, Fenris, thinking that," Evelyna said softly, brushing her fingers over his lyrium on his arm. Fenris clenched his jaw and looked around. The girl at the bar was yawning, her mother telling her to get to bed, while the father was staring at the only other patron in the bar, a drunkard in the corner, with a sad look in his eyes.

Evelyna rarely touched Fenris, especially without his explicit consent. She seemed to prefer tempting him from a bit more of a distance, giving him the space and time to react. In the end, he would also prefer that. Still, he was a man. There was only so much of this he'd be able to stand. Bathing naked near Riften, relaxing in the hot springs on the way to Windhelm - they were images that he could not forget easily. They sent the blood rushing up his neck, making him feel awkward and virginal, and over time increasingly _hungry_.

It would not do him well to lust for her. In Tevinter, sex had been twisted not to be an intimate act of affection, but something a bit more depraved and cruel. He did not like to think about it. Evelyna's touch, no matter how innocent, sent his mind to dark places.

Fenris did not need to shrug away from her touch, however. Evelyna took her hand back on her own and then smiled at him sadly, the faint hint of tears in her eyes. He could hardly stand to look at her. "We're both... anomalies, are we not?"

"Freaks, you mean?" He asked, scoffing. He took another long swig of his wine. "Bah. Birds of a feather, they say."

Evelyna chuckled. "You do us wrong to compare us to birds."

"It's an expression," he explained before taking another swig of his wine. His stomach felt warm with the drink.

The door to the Frozen Hearth swung open, and in came two town guards, talking.

Evelyna smirked at Fenris. "I have not heard that expression."

"_'Birds of a feather flock together._'" Fenris waved his hand dismissively, frowning. "It's something people say."

She seemed amused by the saying as she took another long sip of her wine. The guards cast a brief glance around the tavern before heading towards the bar. One said to the other, "I got to thinking, maybe I'm the Dragonborn, and I just don't know it yet."

The other chuckled. "I'd fear for Skyrim if you were."

Fenris and Evelyna met eyes. He let out a scoff, and then a deep, gravelly chuckle. He shook his head, glancing at the guards where they seated themselves at the bar.

"I must admit," Fenris began, his voice smooth, "for someone as... revered as you, you are not given the amenities a hero would normally have."

"What do you mean?" Evelyna shifted on the bench so that she straddled it, facing Fenris. She leaned sideways into the table, the firelight casting shadows across her face, one sharp eye sparkling and the other shrouded in darkness.

Fenris swallowed noisily. "You pay for your meals, you do not have armed guards -"

"I have Lydia."

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "You leave her in Whiterun, so I do not think she counts. She cannot protect you from there. My point is, have you thought about how much more comfortable your travels would be if you announced that you were the Dragonborn?"

The corner of her lip curled in contemplation, eyes steady on the fire. "I could... but I am a solitary creature. I like my quiet, I like the wild..."

_Just like a dragon,_ Fenris thought wryly.

"Yes, I would get free food, warm beds, prizes and gifts. However, people would come to me for blessings, they would name their children after me. They would come to me with all of their trifles. It is a heavy burden, and I am too selfish to accept it."

Her eyes left the fire and she sighed. A silence ensued, only interrupted by the cackling of the fire and the chatting of the guards. The little girl left her seat and followed her mother out of the main hall of the inn.

Fenris took another sip of his wine, feeling satisfied and fuzzy. "At least you have that foresight. Hawke did not. Or if he did, he accepted it. I liked being Hawke's friend, but I did not like the attention. And the errands. They were never over."

_Wolves and dragons cannot live among common men, for fear of destroying them._

Evelyna laughed, and Fenris felt a swell of accomplishment in his gut. He was not a funny person, he knew, but neither was she.

"The errands!" Evelyna shook her head, and Fenris noticed the two guards glance at them. "It isn't that I'm above them, but... it's amazing the things people will hire someone to do."

She smiled at Fenris, eyes bright when the firelight hit them both. "However, there is nothing worse than someone using it to... be a mentor. Like Delphine, and the Greybeards, though I respect them much more. I'm the Dragonborn, but I'm my own woman as well."

"You would be a powerful political tool for anybody," Fenris said, speaking from experience, "it is a dangerous position. Not to be taken lightly."

She nodded solemnly. "There are things I hope that just... come to me, at some point."

He smirked. She was older than him, so much older, but she was still naiive. "It will never be that easy."

He remembered Anders, and Hawke's tormented expression as he killed him. He remembered Hawke's change, his solemn descent into depression as they left the City of Chains. Hawke's sister had died first, and then his mother, and then a good friend, an abomination.

"No, it won't be," Evelyna agreed, watching the dancing flames in the fire. "Although, it's been easier since you've come along. Not as many people bother me now."

Fenris snorted, pulling his feet away from the fire because it was too hot. He looked at her, and saw her wrinkle her nose, still watching the flames. His eyes darted briefly to her burned thigh, and when he looked back up, she was watching him with a gleam in her eyes. Fenris sucked in a quiet breath.

"Why don't you use your magic to heal that?"

She shrugged. "I embrace my scars."

He swallowed, wondering suspiciously if that was meant to be taken as a hint. "Not only that," he pressed, "but you may have to worry about it getting infected."

"It isn't that bad, I think," Evelyna disagreed. "I think I'll die in the jaws of Alduin before an infection takes me under."

A brave, rash fool was not the _worst_ type of fool, he decided. But he would not say such a thing, he would not insult her at this point. She was probably right, anyway. The burn would be showing signs of infection at this point, and she probably _was_ more likely to die in the maw of a dragon, but perhaps not Alduin. _Would she even live long enough to see Alduin?,_ Fenris wondered.

That thought sent a wave of solemnity swelling in Fenris' pit. He looked down sadly at his wine bottle, wondering all the_ ifs_. If Evelyna died, he may never be able to find Hawke and the others. If Evelyna died, he'd feel compelled to explain to Lydia and the Greybeards, and he'd be given hell for it he was sure. He'd feel compelled to bury her. That was an interesting thought.

Fenris was beginning to understand this place. _Life is short, Fenris,_ she had said to him. It seemed more of a reality here - with civil war and dragons ravaging the land. Though Evelyna could potentially live one thousand years, she was not likely to, not in a place like this.

Fenris swallowed the last of his wine and wiped his mouth. Evelyna had one elbow on the table, her eyes focused, half glazed over in the amber light of the fire. Her hand propped up her head, and Meeko lay at her feet sleeping lazily. Fenris watched her for a moment. He remembered being at the fort in the mountains, how he had that urge to grab her and kiss her. Strong and fierce. _Just like her_.

Now he wanted to, but he knew he wouldn't. Fenris ran a hand down his neck and looked at her from beneath his curtain of white bangs. He wondered if she was struggling with the concept of her mortality, where their conversation had abruptly ended.

_We're two people that don't really know how to talk to people,_ Fenris realized. They could not small-talk, nor beat around the bush. But they could communicate, and sometimes the two were different things.

Fenris sighed and pushed himself off the bench. Evelyna blinked again at the fire, before she seemed to come back to herself. Her hazel eyes flitted towards him, and she looked so sad and tired, so drained. There was still dried blood on her scalp and parts of her chest and shoulders, as well as dirt-stains. Her burn was not a lovely sight, but it truly wasn't that bad. Her hair was all in tangles down her back.

"Let's get to sleep," Fenris suggested.

She smiled weakly and shut her eyes for a moment. "Would you like to finish my ale?" She asked.

He did, picking up her tankard and drinking from it. It wasn't bad, honestly. Much better than the ale had been in Kirkwall. When he finished he held an armored hand out.

"Are you ready?"

Surprised by his gesture, Evelyna glanced from him to his offered hand, and then took it with a faint smirk, letting go when she was on her feet. She clicked her tongue for Meeko to follow as they both moved to their own separate doors that led to their separate rooms.

Before Evelyna stepped into her room, Fenris spoke. "I am not looking forward to this."

She paused. Meeko was at Fenris' heels, but he couldn't help but wonder if Evelyna would need her trusty wolfhound more tonight.

"Why?" She asked sleepily. "I have my Voice, you have unmatched talent with your sword. We're unstoppable, Fenris. Even against mages."

Fenris huffed a short, soft laugh wiggled the key in the door of his room. He wryly wondered why she hadn't mentioned his markings in that compliment, but then he understood. He was more than his markings, and Evelyna wanted him to see that.

"I hope so," he replied quietly.

Evelyna disappeared into her room, muttering, "Goodnight, Fenris."

"Goodnight."

In his room with Meeko, Fenris removed his armor and stretched out on the bed, not bothering to light a fire. Meeko curled up beside him; the massive dog taking up half the bed. But Fenris enjoyed the warmth because the hearth remained unattended. He fell asleep on his stomach with Meeko's back pressed up against his ribcage, dreaming of wolves prowling the tundra and scaled beasts ruling the skies.

* * *

The wind blew fiercely up from the frozen sea. The going was slow over the narrow stone bridge that connected the College of Winterhold to the town. Pieces of the pathway had fallen away, and the stones were covered in a treacherous layer of ice. Fenris had to step carefully in his Orcish boots for fear of tumbling far to his death.

They followed Faralda, a female High Elf witch, across the bridge towards the college. Evelyna had had to Shout at the mage to gain access to the college, proving that she was dragonborn as opposed to taking the magic test. The ordeal had taken more time than Fenris cared for, standing out in the frigid cold, and his patience for these mages was already wearing dangerously thin.

"Would anyone here know about a moth priest? Or an Elder Scroll?" Evelyna asked after Faralda lit the last beacon of the path, a cool blue light that lingered, floating.

"Hmm..." The Altmer mage looked over her shoulder at them briefly, "I would say go to the Arcanaeum. Talk with Urag gro-Shub, he's the lorekeeper. If he doesn't know, no one will."

Faralda brought them through a set of heavy, massive doors and into a cold courtyard with a beautiful statue of a mage. They were escorted to another set of doors, and traveled down a flight of narrow and dark stairs by themselves, Faralda leaving to attend other matters.

The stairs brought them to a library for certain. The walls were lined with tomes ancient and new, but even so it almost looked empty. In the center of the Arcanaeum was a dip, with a few tables and chairs for sitting, candles flickering in the drafty room. Across was a tall desk with candelabras and bottles of wine lining it. A male Orc leaned against the desk, flipping slowly through a text.

The old man looked up at them with squinted eyes, two large fangs poking up from his bottom lip. The Orc had a long, white beard and angled ears, and he was clothed in robes of yellow and brown.

As Evelyna, Fenris and Meeko began to approach, the Orc growled out, "Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection. It's going to stay pristine, understand?"

Evelyna paused briefly, slightly taken aback by the idle threat. "Er, yes. I'm only here to ask some questions. You must be Urag gro-Shub?"

"I am, I'm the lorekeeper of the College."

"Good." Evelyna stopped at the desk, folding her hands in front of her. "I've been told to speak to you about where I could find an Elder Scroll."

The Orc let out a scoff, eyes intense and angry. "And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you someone's errand girl?"

Evelyna put her hands on her hips, glancing at Fenris. "I know what I'm looking for. Do you have one?"

"You think even if I did have one here, I'd let you see it? It would be kept under the highest security. Even the greatest thief in the world wouldn't be able to lay a finger on it."

Evelyna clicked her tongue, irritated. "What about the Dragonborn?"

"What about... wait. Are you? Were you the one the Greybeards were calling?"

Evelyna scoffed. "You could hear it from here?!"

The Orc nodded, the anger leaving his eyes. "I'll bring you everything we have on them, but it's not much. So don't get your hopes up. It's mostly lies, leavened with rumor and conjecture."

The Orc shut the book he was looking at and stepped around the desk, casting a wary glance at Meeko before going to the bookshelves. He plucked a couple books from around the Arcanaeum and then slid them onto the desk.

"Here you go. Try not to spill anything on them."

Evelyna picked up the books and went with Fenris to a small table near some light. A while passed, and Fenris flipped through _"Nords Arise!_", grunting at certain lines and shaking his head.

It was some time before Evelyna shut her second book and sighed, standing up and going to the Orc. She held the second book up to him as she walked back towards the desk. "This 'Ruminations' book is incomprehensible!"

The Orc gave a slight chuckle. "Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls, but... well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

Fenris shut his book and got up to stand beside Evelyna at the desk. She put the book down, fingers dancing on its cover. "Where did he go?"

"Somewhere up north, in the ice fields. Said he found some old Dwemer artifact, but... well, that was years ago. I haven't heard from him since."

"In the ice fields? Like in the water?"

"Yes. I'm sure someone in town will sell you a boat."

"What am I looking for exactly?"

Urag shrugged, kicking down the corner of a fur rug on the floor. "I don't know, I've never gone to see him."

"There's one more thing..." Evelyna began to say, running her fingertips along the edge of the book. "I'm looking for someone. I need to find a Moth Priest."

Urag crossed his arms over his chest. "A Moth Priest? What in Oblivion do you need a Moth Priest for?"

Evelyna glanced again at Fenris, and he shifted on his feet. His gaze flitted to Urag.

"My business is my own. Just tell me what I need to know, please."

"Fine, fine. No need to get your breeches in a twist. The obvious answer is to go to Imperial City. The Moth Priests make their home in the White Gold Tower. Sometimes they go out looking for Elder Scrolls. Lucky for you, there's a Moth Priest in Skyrim right now, doing just that. He stopped in to do some research in the library, then left for Dragon Bridge. If you hurry, you might catch him there."

"Very well," Evelyna inclined her head in respect. "You have my thanks. We will be leaving."

"Yes, yes. Take care, then."

Evelyna turned, wasting no time, and Fenris followed at her heels. They left the Arcanaeum and its drafty, dim chill, and put the mage statue behind them. Only when they were walking along the precarious bridge did Fenris open his mouth.

"We are in a race for this thing, then. This scroll."

Evelyna didn't look back at him, only nodding. "And not only against the Vampires. But it isn't fair. We have more obstacles in our way. We have to go north?" She paused, turning to face the north; a vast and desolate region of ice and frigid water, shifting and cracking in the wind and waves. "We're looking for a yellow skeever on a mountain."

Fenris arched his brow at the expression, running a hand through his snowy hair. All around them the sky began to slowly darken, flecks of snow began to fall. It was summer now in Skyrim, but no one would ever guess that here.

"What is our next step?" Fenris asked as they came to the last beacon along the bridge.

"We need a rowboat, and food to last us a ways. We'll have to leave tomorrow, if the weather is calm."

A boat? Fenris didn't want to go on another boat, not after he had been on that last ship for months, nearly meeting his end on it. As if sensing his anxiety on the matter, Evelyna paused to smile at him. "Don't worry, Fenris. I will try to keep us from the jaws of any dragons."

* * *

**I had not originally wanted to end this chapter here, but it's already at 8,000 words and many more before it gets to the part where I wanted it to get. =/ I'm sorry!**


	14. All of the Places We'll Go

**Hello all! Here is the longest chapter yet. I hope you guys like it. This story is wearing me down though. I don't want to take a hiatus, however. It's just... enormous. I feel like each chapter doesn't accomplish anything?**

**Oh, the woes of writing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain to you all because you guys are AWESOME! Thank you so incredibly much to: HereLies **(I love your super-long, insightful reviews!**), Pint-sized She-Bear **(thank you so much for following me for so long now!**), Cegorach** (your last review had me laughing, I swear!),** Rhokesh **(Welcome!)** and Arquise** (Hehe, I'm glad you think it's time!**). Thank you so much for all of your reviews, and to all those who follow.**

**Long lyrics/quote this time, but it is SO fitting, you don't even know.**

* * *

_"In my dreams we were wolves, and there was nothing else_

_In the great, wide world that we made ourselves_

_Howling in daylight, fighting like men,_

_Hunting in darkness, preying on our kin._

_All the creatures crying, ain't we lucky that they're silent?_

_Ain't we lucky that they ain't got no mouths to speak out of?_

_Sea won't you split, sky won't you crack?_

_Teach me to tremble, tremble like that._

_Sea won't you split, sky won't you crack?_

_Teach me to tremble, tremble like that._

_Now the land's desolate, and we all look just the same_

_Foaming at the mouths from the fire in our veins,_

_All the wolves are howling, begging for the moon,_

_To return the songbirds, bring them home safe soon."_

_- Alexa Woodward, "Wolves"_

* * *

It took two days, in fact, for the weather to die down and for Evelyna to find someone willing to lend the Dragonborn a small rowboat. The boat was sturdy enough though, and did not leak. It had just enough room for Fenris, Evelyna, Meeko and their several pounds of salted horker and slaughterfish, as well as their bottles of wine and water.

Their going had been slow and miserable. Wrapped in so many furs that they could hardly move, Fenris and Evelyna said next to nothing to each other, drifting into an endless, companionable silence. The wind would howl, the water would splash, the ice would groan as the ocean pushed the chunks onto one another. It was a cold, desolate place with no refuge.

The first night he had not been able to sleep. They had remained in the rowboat for protection from the wind, but had pulled the boat up onto an island of ice. Fenris had shivered the night away, watching the stars with a bitterness in his heart. He had never imagined that a place could be so cold.

And then the second night he and Evelyna sat in the rowboat, which had again been pulled up and beached on a frozen island, eating salted horker and drinking wine. The ocean wind was a harsh thing, and Fenris was scowling as he tried to retreat further into his furs.

"Fenris," Evelyna began to say, uncertainly. The sun had already gone down an hour before, and the bitter wind of the night was upon them, the world falling into an increasingly dark twilight. Evelyna shut her mouth, staring at the bottle of wine she held in her leather gloves.

"What is it?" He asked, from in the depths of the fur hood over his head. His knees were pulled up against his chest, but nothing was driving out the cold.

Evelyna cleared her throat, and then looked at him sadly beneath eyelashes crusted with ice. "I know a way we can be warm, when we sleep. Although... it would likely make you uncomfortable."

Fenris knew what she meant before she even got a handful of words past her lips. He refused to meet her gaze, instead taking a swig and blinking at the feel of the cold glass on his lips. "I see," he murmured after he swallowed his wine, eyes glittering dangerously towards Evelyna, almost daring her to say something she'd regret. "Why would it make me uncomfortable?"

They did not have any wood to burn for a fire, and soon they would be in complete darkness, with nothing to do but go to sleep. And Fenris knew it would be no warmer tonight. "Because you do not like to be... touched."

His lips twitched towards a frown, but he did not want it to show. As he was about to say something, Evelyna's voice slipped through her mouth, tentative, an unusual tone for her. "But I would try not to bother you. We would only sleep."

Fenris could not suppress his cough. He recovered, and found himself smirking. "You are terrible with words, you know. Sometimes."

A smile flickered across her face, and Fenris felt a small swell of accomplishment.

"Which is tragic," Evelyna replied, "since my Voice is my greatest weapon."

Fenris chuckled slightly, trying to keep his anxiety down within him. "Does it truly work? Your idea?"

Evelyna smirked, but he was sure in better lighting he would see her blush. "It does. Do you mean to say you've never lain close to someone for warmth before?"

"I have never been this cold before," Fenris replied, knowing that he was dodging the question. "You forget, I am from the tropics, and The Free Marches are mild."

"All you have to do," Evelyna said carefully, "is strip as much as you will allow yourself. We lay-"

"I know how it works," Fenris grumbled. He pushed the cork back into the wine bottle, and sucked in a breath as Evelyna wrapped her arms around the massive, shaggy wolfhound and pulled him up towards the bow of the boat. Fenris swallowed, "Shall we?"

That was it. He could not turn back. Sleeping uncomfortably close to Evelyna was surely better than succumbing to the elements in the ice floes.

Evelyna stared at him unbelieving. "You're certain, Fenris?"

"No," he ground out. "Alas, it is colder than last night. I don't wish to freeze to death."

She began to pull off her furs, her boots and gauntlets. Fenris averted his eyes when he heard her pauldron hit the bottom of the boat. He swallowed noisily and began to also pull off his many layers of fur, fingers feeling as though they were fumbling. In the center of the rowboat, Evelyna was already beneath the pile of furs she had been wearing. Fenris moved as quickly as he could, stopping when he removed his breastplate, gauntlets and boots, still clothed in his black tunic and trousers

Shivering violently, Fenris lay down beside Evelyna, his shoulder against her back, as he pulled the rest of the furs he had been wearing over them both.

It certainly did not_ feel_ warmer, not yet. Fenris wondered if she were naked, but his own clothing made it impossible to tell.

Evelyna shifted, shivering, and it took him a moment to realize that she had turned around. In their darkness beneath all the furs, Evelyna had her face near his shoulder, her hands curled against her chest, knees against his thigh.

Meeko sniffed at the furs, and then buried himself beneath the blankets. Fenris tensed as the dog's frozen fur pressed up against his hard side, with Evelyna's warmth on the other.

"Tell me of the tropics," Evelyna said quietly. "What is it like there?"

The furs reached over their heads and past their feet, keeping out the wind, and Fenris hoped that in a few minutes they would begin to warm. Awkwardly, he tried not to think about her body so close to his. He knew he should be turned, his chest on her back, but he could not bring himself to do so.

"The tropics..." Fenris began, trying to redirect his thoughts. "What do you care to hear of it?"

On the other side of the furs, the wind howled over the icy sea. "Tell me about the heat."

Fenris would have scoffed in other circumstances. But his heart was hammering in his chest, and suddenly flashes of Evelyna naked and bathing in the hot springs, and in the pond flickered in his mind's eye. He could easily give in to his temptations; roll onto her, kiss her the way he had wanted to at the ransacked fort. She would be willing, he was sure, but Fenris could not find it within him.

"The heat?" Fenris' voice came out gruff and hoarse. "The sun burns- not people with our color skin, but the lighter ones. Still, after too many hours outside, it will sting after a while, and for the days that follow. And the heat is thick and wet, suffocating. It gets to the point where you pray for the slightest breeze to refresh you."

"Sounds terrible. But I would take it right now."

Fenris mumbled affirmatively. "That was in Seheron, more. It was drier in Tevinter, the jungle not as thick. It rained every day, that far north-"

"South," Evelyna laughed.

He snorted. "Indeed. A fleeting downpour, barely enough to wash away the sweat."

"And what else?"

Fenris frowned, thinking back. "There are palm trees; tall, skinny, smooth trunks. They didn't provide any shade, really. And the ocean is lighter; the water clear and warm, with sand smooth and soft. The grass is thick and prickly, not like here."

"Did you like it there? More than the weather here?"

"I like the weather towards Riften."

"It will be getting warmer, also. It's summer."

"And you would never know it, here."

Evelyna chuckled against his shoulder, a shiver running through her. "The summers are short here, yes, but they are warm. You will see once we're back in Whiterun."

"Do you always go so long without seeing your home?"

"No, but I've only lived in Whiterun for perhaps five months."

"And before that, you were in the wild?"

"Yes, going from place to place. I love the forest, Fenris. I love the sounds of the wilds, a cool river to soothe my feet, the breeze on my face. There is little more gratifying than slipping through the trees on a hunt."

He had that image in his mind; Evelyna sprinting through the soldier pines, her bow at her side, eyes focused on a shaggy elk. He could imagine her vaulting over fallen trees and rocks, leaping across creeks, ducking under the outstretched limbs of the trees. Sap in her hair, dirt on her face; that was her element.

"You would make the Dalish seem like city-rats, I think."

She laughed. "I'm sure if the Dalish lived here, they would be like me."

"You would disagree if you had ever met those fools."

Meeko groaned, and Fenris was finally beginning to feel warm. Their body heat was trapped beneath the many layers of furs, and after a few moments, Evelyna's breathing came in slow and soft as she fell asleep. She was far more comfortable in the cold than he. But even so, he succumbed to his exhaustion, but his dreams were filled with wolves and and great winged beasts.

In the morning, he needed to lift the furs for just a brief moment, checking to see if the sun were out and needing a breath of fresh air. He noticed that Evelyna was not, in fact, naked beside him. He sighed in relief, glad that she had remained in a her leather vest and smalls down below.

Nothing terrible had happened. Fenris had slept beside her; with only a few layers of fabric to separate them, beneath a pile of furs. To his immense relief, nothing had happened. She had not put him in any more of an uncomfortable spot than he had been in already.

His anxiety subsided, albeit slowly. Beneath the furs he could smell Evelyna's pine-scented hair, feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, turned away from him with her back against his side.

Meeko stretched, and Fenris slipped out from beneath the cover of the furs. Evelyna stirred, stretching, and Fenris began to pull some of the furs off the pile and around his body, over his steel breastplate. Meeko jumped from the rowboat, onto the icy island they had landed on, sniffing and padding his way towards the edge of their island.

With an excited bark, Meeko wagged his tail, looking ahead. Fenris was pulling on his gauntlets, squinting under the pale sun. The wind had died down, only clouds loomed in the skies, and the sea was gently lapping against the ice chunks.

Fenris looked up towards the barking, his eyes flitting ahead.

And then he saw it, something they had missed in the twilight last night.

"Evelyna," he said immediately, jade eyes narrowing. "Evelyna," he repeated.

She poked out from beneath the covers of fur, bleary-eyed. "Mm?"

"There's a boat." He nodded ahead, towards a mound of ice on an island, and a rowboat pulled up onto its shore. "Is that where our Septimus lives?"

She scrambled out from the covers, slipping into her fur skirts, eyes following Fenris' gaze. Her lips curled in a smile. "I think it may be, Fenris. We've found our madman."

* * *

It was another hour before Evelyna was knocking on the door to the island. After sparing Fenris a glance, she opened the door. Inside, they passed through a brief tunnel of ice before coming to an open room; large, dim and cold. The cave had a ramp made of ice and stone that spiraled down to the floor of the cave, where a massive golden cube sat partly submerged in ice.

Evelyna and Fenris both paused at the top of the ramp, looking at the cube. It had intricate carvings and blue glass decorating its sides.

And then there was movement. A robed man stepped into the dim torchlight of the cave, hemming and hawing, flipping through a book at a table. He hadn't noticed them yet.

Evelyna took a step, and felt a firm hand close tight around her wrist. She paused, turning to look at Fenris. His eyes were narrowed, watching the man warily, calculating their risk. His grip was intense, but Evelyna did not complain.

"What?" She mouthed, confused.

"Be on your guard," Fenris whispered. "He's a madman, remember." He released his hold on her wrist, and followed her down the ramp. His fingers twitched to move for his sword, but he did not follow through.

The man did a double-take upon seeing them descend the ramp. Hollow eyes looked up across the dim firelight. He glanced between Fenris and Evelyna, and then Meeko.

"Good day," Evelyna spoke first. "My name is Evelyna, this is Fenris. Are you Septimus Signus?"

The man's mouth trembled for a brief moment, eyes flitting up the ramp as if looking for more people. "That is me, yes."

Evelyna smiled, stopping several feet from the elderly, bearded man. "I was told that you know about the Elder Scrolls."

"Elder Scrolls. Indeed." Septimus crossed his thin arms over his chest, looking half-emaciated. Fenris remembered that he had lived here for years, among the ice and the sea, probably without so much as a friend. "The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw." Septimus laughed. "I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I... I have arisen beyond its grasp."

Fenris noticed Evelyna's eyebrows raise. He wondered what sort of witty things Hawke would say to this crazed man. Evelyna wiped her hands on her fur skirts. "Are you... all right?"

Septimus' eyes went wide, his voice rising and falling. "Ooh! I am well. I will be well. Well to be within the will inside the walls."

Evelyna cast Fenris a quick glance. He wondered what she was thinking for a brief second. "So, where is the Scroll?"

"Here. Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

Evelyna's patience was running thin. "Can you help me get to the Elder Scroll or not?"

"One block lifts the other. Septimus will give you what you want, but you must first bring him something in return."

"What is it?"

"You see this masterwork of the Dwemer. Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach? 'Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept.'" Septimus laughed, his voice dry and old.

Evelyna pressed her lips together, not nearly as amused as the raving man. "Where is this 'Blackreach'?"

"Under deep. below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alfthand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. but not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock."

"How do I get in?"

"Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know."

Septimus went to his bureau and pulled out two items, one that vaguely resembled the massive cube and another a golden sphere. He began to utter more nonsense, and Evelyna found that as their time to relieve themselves of this madman who lived among the ice.

* * *

Fenris and Evelyna remained in Winterhold for only a day, purchasing as much dried jerky and vegetables as they could. They both had a dark feeling in the pit of their stomach that it would be a long time before they could return to Whiterun, before they would be able to spend another night in a tavern.

They had not repeated their night beneath the furs, and neither truly spoke of it.

_It was for survival,_ Fenris told himself._ There are certain things one must do in a land like this._

Fenris was grateful that she did not speak of it. He had enjoyed that night, though - that was the truth of it. He had been warm and comfortable, though painfully aware of Evelyna's body beside him. They had hardly touched, which made it easier to look at each other in the morning.

In the nights that passed, they kept their distance as they slept at The Frozen Hearth, and then in the snowy wilderness to the southwest of the town. They had found shelter in a cave after leaving Winterhold, and frankly had had no reason to cuddle up together.

They found Alftand at last; glacial ruins with decrepit, rickety bridges connecting across steep, deep ridges. They did not know where they were going, particularly, but Fenris had a small amount of faith in Evelyna's impeccable sense of direction.

They found a cave-like entrance into a wide tunnel made of ice. Inside it was clear that the tunnel had not been used in some time. A cart lay half-buried in the snow, wooden planks were strewn about.

Further in, when the tunnel grew dark, Evelyna lit a lantern and paused. The snow was splattered in crimson all along the cave, but there was no body that they could see. Evelyna glanced at Fenris, her eyes wide, before continuing.

The ice tunnel twisted and descended deep into the heart of the snowy cliff it had been built into. All was quiet, only the distant whispering of the wind could occasionally reach them; stray breaths dipping down into the cave.

And then Fenris heard it first; a voice. He had been in front of Evelyna, sword readied, and stopped abruptly at the sound. Evelyna's palm want gently to the dip between his shoulderblades, letting him know she was right there.

"Where is it?" Asked a sneering voice, echoing slightly off the ice. The light of the lantern was dimly on a stone pillar ahead. "I know you were trying to keep it for yourself J'zhar... You always to try keep it for yourself! No! There's got to be more Skooma... Shut up! Shut up! Don't lie to me J'zhar! You hid it. You always try to steal it from me!"

Fenris crouched, making himself a smaller target, with his blade resting on his shoulder. The accent was from Elsweyr, he had heard the Khajits speak with the same accent outside of the towns and cities.

The voice drifted and fell away as the ice tunnel spread out into a tunnel made of stone, with carved pillars and angled ceilings. There were objects glinting gold in the light of the lantern; a tangle of metal cast in piles. Evelyna had picked one up to inspect it more closely, and to Fenris it resembled a spider.

"We'll have to fight these," Evelyna whispered to him. "I'm sure there are many. In any Dwemer ruin."

He gave her a nod before continuing down the tunnel. They came upon a table with two more of these piles of metal, and a book. Evelyna set the lantern down and opened the book with interest in her eyes. They both read in silence, listening for any change in the atmosphere.

The notes, scribbled hastily, warned of the Dwemer machines coming forth from the pipes. They were aggressive things, and nearly killed the Khajits. The notes grew more scientific, and Evelyna shut it, having gotten the main message. Hazel, wary eyes flitted to Fenris almost apologetically as they continued down the dark, cold tunnels.

Fenris heard a clicking, the sound of metal grating against metal. Evelyna hissed, and Fenris looked about. The glinting of gold caught his eye in the darkness, a Dwemer spider crawling towards them. Fenris' mouth curled into a scowl as the machine leaped towards him. Fenris brought his sword down in a great arc, the metal_ singing_ as the machine broke apart; its limbs flailing and falling. The creature fell to the ground with a clamor, no longer moving.

They continued, listening to make sure nothing had heard their encounter. They had been attacked by two more of the Dwarven spiders; Evelyna taking them both down, before their travels brought them back to the voice. Ahead, down in the tunnel, a light flickered, and blood was splattered all over the snowy floor.

"What? Who is this, Brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food? But this one wasn't trapped with us..."

Fenris growled, stepping ahead. A Khajit, the one who had been speaking, was crouched, armed with an axe. Evelyna set the lantern down as the Khajit's eyes settled on Fenris; wild and maddened, crazed.

Fenris did not back down in the slightest. He lurched ahead just as the Khajit threw his arm back to swing the axe. Fenris brought down his sword with pinpoint accuracy, cutting like butter through the Khajit's clothing. The cat screamed, but only for a moment before Evelyna embedded her axe in the Khajit's throat. By the looks of her, she seemed disturbed.

Ahead they found some potions beside the other Khajit's body, and a journal. Evelyna read it, eyes looking haunted and distraught, before she placed the journal down and sighed. "I would give these Khajits a burial, but... I do not have a shovel, and the ground is hard as a rock."

Fenris wondered if she buried many people that she found dead along her travels. Fenris rolled his shoulders, aching from carrying his sword this entire time, always poised for attack. "I'm sure they would appreciate the thought, if they could."

And with that, they moved onward. The snow gave away to stone, and the sound of old, abandoned machines thrummed loudly among the ruins, giving the impression of something very large up ahead. Fenris remained on his guard. Another journal only told of fear and sorrow, and Fenris was regretting ever coming here. They were fools, mulling about in these dangerous, ancient Dwemer buildings, looking for a damned Scroll of all things.

The machinery soon became almost deafeningly loud. Golden-colored gears turned, half-hidden in the massive stone walls. Steam or water poured from pipes. The tunnels seemed very much alive.

And they were, Fenris and Evelyna discovered. His feet were aching before long, and his shoulders and back were sore as well. They encountered more Dwemer spiders, and then creatures that rolled on spheres. They came upon a large, half-destroyed room where they had to climb over pipes so that they wouldn't get pushed off a platform and fall to their deaths. All the while the machinery in the walls was pumping, hissing, churning, where mist and steam cast animated shadows on the stone walls. Dwarven spiders and spherical creatures worked on the machinery, slaving away for unknown masters. Their bite was harsh with their sharp metal claws, and they were quick machines, too. Each encounter left Fenris in a nervous sweat, and Evelyna had already healed two gashes he had earned.

Fenris would die here, he was sure. And there would be no worse place to die, aside from Tevinter.

But if he would ever survive this place, it would be because of Evelyna. She identified several traps that he would have otherwise walked right into, only whispering if she needed to use her voice at all.

"Shh," Evelyna paused on a narrow stone bridge in a massive, cavernous room. "The Falmer are here."

Far, far down below stood a gross creature with pale skin, clothed in rags. Near it water poured out from a golden pipe, in a tall waterfall ending in the abyss far down below.

"What are they?" Fenris asked.

"They used to be elves. Slaves, too." Evelyna said carefully, quietly, crouched near the edge of the bridge. "They now are blind and live here, and wish any surface-dwellers dead. They are cruel, and not sentient like us, not anymore."

She drew her bow, and it took five arrows to bring the screaming creature down. The Falmer had no idea where she was, and had only been able to stumble about wailing before its death.

They found a dead, female Orc near the dead Falmer, but found nothing of use on her. Descending further down into the abyss, they came upon more Falmer and Dwarven spiders. At first, Fenris almost pitied the Falmer, until they found the torture chamber, where a skeleton lay on a bed of stone and the ruins stank of death and disgrace. Further down, they encountered even more Falmer.

As Fenris was beginning to believe there would be no end to these ruins, they came upon a heavy set of golden doors. Evelyna sighed.

"Let's rest here for a bit, Fenris. We've cleared everything behind us, and if anything wants to come from the other side of these doors, we'll hear them before they know where we are."

"I agree," Fenris allowed, finding a spot to sit against the wall. Meeko whimpered and curled up behind him. "Is there no end to this place?" His back ached incredibly from the strain of carrying his sword.

"I sure hope so," Evelyna sat down beside him, on the other side of the wolfhound. "I've never really loved Dwemer ruins."

"What's there to love?" Fenris asked, rubbing his neck and shoulders. Evelyna chuckled softly and tangled her fingers in Meeko's fur.

"Do you think there's much farther to go?"

"I could not say either way. We'll just have to press on and not get lost. I already long for the breeze on my face."

Fenris wanted to take a nap, wanted some deeper rest than only sitting there; but the ruins were all a-clamor with their machinery pumping, hissing and grinding. He could not say how much time had passed when they decided to press on.

Beyond the golden doors were two Falmer. Their blindness proved useful - Evelyna could usually stick them with a few arrows before they caught on to where they were. Meeko was helpful too; scared of the machines but not of the fleshy Falmer.

After they slayed the Falmer, Evelyna pulled a lever and followed Fenris up a flight of stone stairs leading to a platform. Something was odd. Fenris' eyes fell on a massive machine; a humanoid, golden creature. Steam billowed from its broad shoulders and elbows, and the thing towered high above them. It reminded Fenris of a golem; only made of gold with curling joints.

"Talos' dick," Evelyna swore. "Fenris, that's a Centurion."

There was a sound, metal squeaking against metal. The Centurion twitched and sputtered, shifting and finding its bearings. It stepped away from the impression in the stone wall, the gears on its body turning loudly.

Meeko barked, but the sound was drowned out by Evelyna's quick Voice, shattering through the cold air. "_Fus ro dah!"_

The Centurion stumbled, shuddering in the same way the dragon at Dragon Bridge had.

Fenris swallowed his anxiety, leaping ahead and bringing his sword down into the golden neck of the Centurion. If it did much damage, he could not tell aside from the ding in the armor and a groan in the metal. The Centurion rose from its knee and Fenris jumped back, not wanting to be hit by that great golden axe or hammer.

This would be a dance. Evelyna whistled to the Centurion, and the massive machine shifted its head to look at her.

Fenris knew his sword was of little use against this abomination. He flared his markings, lurching towards the Centurion with wraith-like grace and speed. He could vaguely hear Meeko snapping at the Centurion's heels, though the poor dog knew that his teeth would not pierce through the plate.

Fenris thrust an open fist into the abdomen of the Centurion, his fingers finding smaller pieces of machinery. The Centurion stumbled as Fenris yanked on what he could before he knew he had to run away and quickly.

The Centurion moved slowly, getting distracted by Meeko. "_Yol toor shul!_" Fire burst from Evelyna's mouth, resembling a dragon herself. The Centurion turned towards her, swinging its great golden arms at it lumbered towards her. She twirled her axes in her fingers, backpedaling away from the creature.

Fenris glanced at his blade. The blow against the Centurion had left a nick in the metal, but he could still use it just fine. Fenris walked behind the Centurion silently, looking for a weak point in the creature's armor.

The Centurion was a clumsy, slow thing. It did not have the greatest range of movement, Fenris noticed. It's arms were too thick and short. Fenris could take advantage of that, he knew. He stalked behind the golden warrior like a hungry wolf, crouched with his sword ready.

Evelyna had gotten bold. She was far closer to the Centurion than Fenris thought wise. Her two axes would not save her from its hammer and axe.

Fenris ignited his markings, awash of cool blue in the dim cavern. He heard Evelyna whimper and yelp like a beaten dog, but he did not have time to see what had happen. As a wraith, he plunged his arm into the pit of the Centurion, and with his other arm he pierced between the joints of the machine, where its leg met its bowels.

The Centurion turned, stumbling. Fenris had found its weak point. It would not be long now. The world shrank down to the singing of steel and the arc of a blade. Fenris ducked away from a clumsy swing of the Centurion's arm, dancing backwards. His heart raced, his muscles were tight and strong. He would kill this thing, he knew.

The Centurion swung its other arm clumsily, and Fenris lurched forward and crouched between the Centurion's legs, swinging through and embedding his blade at the top of the machine's leg. The machine knelt down, steam billowing out of its body.

Where was Evelyna? Meeko was barking still, but not daring to actually bite the creature. Fenris took advantage of the moment, still, and threw his sword down onto the ground, launching himself onto the Centurion's back. He flared his markings and wrapped his arms around the creature's neck, pulling all the way through.

The Centurion's body began to grind and groan as it staggered and collapsed onto the ground in a great cacophony of ringing metal coming apart on the floor. He noticed at once a key strapped to the Centurion, and he ripped it off the machine's arm before glancing around.

And then he saw Evelyna. She lay by a wall, not moving. Meeko licked his master's face to no avail. Fenris hastened towards her, feeling queasy upon seeing her on the floor.

"Evelyna?" He asked, pushing Meeko aside gently as he sat down on his heels. She was alive. Her chest rose and fell, and she was snoring softly. Relief coursed through him. At least she was alive.

Still, this was not good. Fenris found himself frowning as he caught Evelyna's hair in his hand and pushed it away from her face, looking for any bruises or lacerations. The fact that she was unconscious was not a welcome sign - the Centurion had rattled her brain. He had been in enough battles to know that she would not recover fully for weeks, and from here on out he would have to take the lead.

There were no bruises to be found, though, and Fenris cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping that would be enough to stir her. "Evelyna," he repeated when it wasn't.

He waited, sitting down on the cool stone floor. Exhaustion was beginning to creep into his limbs and bones as the adrenaline of battle ebbed away slowly. They would need to make camp and sleep soon, and Evelyna would need it desperately.

She came to after a few minutes, her faint snoring ending abruptly. Her eyes fluttered open slowly as she groaned, the way one would after a deep sleep.

Fenris watched her carefully, staring with curiosity. Evelyna did not seem to notice him there.

"What is your name?" Fenris asked her, startling her. The elf turned her head towards him, doe-eyed.

She did not answer at first, and dread pulsed through Fenris. He was no caretaker, but every one of Hawke's friends had had a concussion at one point or another. "Evelyna," she answered uncertainly. Then, "Yes. Lena."

Fenris interlaced his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. "Indeed."

"I had a dream," she told him softly, a grin spreading across her face. "It was very long."

Fenris furrowed his brow, watching her beneath his curtain of silky white bangs. "You need rest," he commanded quietly.

"Fenris," she said after a moment, still smiling. "Or is it Leto?"

He remained stoic, impassive, and did not bother to answer that. "You have a concussion, Evelyna. How do you feel?"

She looked away, up at the dark ceiling. Meeko sniffed at her neck. "My head hurts."

He snorted. "Where are we?"

She made a move to sit up, and then laid back down, groaning. "My shoulder-"

Fenris leaned forward, looking at the shoulder she meant, the one that had the pauldron. Frowning seriously, Fenris unbuckled the strap around her chest that held the armor in place, and pulled it away. The dim light of the lantern showed enough; a bruise spreading through her shoulder.

"The Centurion must have hit your shoulder," Fenris observed, "and then you must have hit your head on the wall."

"Centurion?"

Fenris nodded over his shoulder. "That. Evelyna, focus. Do you know where we are?"

Her eyes flitted around suspiciously. "Underground?"

"Mmm." She was not _wrong,_ at least. "Do you think you could fight?"

She smiled. "Yes."

But Fenris knew better. "Sleep, for now. We'll move on in the morning," though he had no idea what time it truly was. It was always nighttime down below the surface.

Evelyna did not challenge him. He folded some of her furs beneath her head and then threw one of his own over her as she mumbled incoherently, drifting asleep. Fenris was weary but restless, and he wanted to see how large this room was and make sure that they were alone.

He stood, rolling his shoulders and stepping through the dim light of the cavernous room. Up ahead a barred gate blocked the way, but Fenris' key fit it perfectly. He fiddled with the lock and then with a heavy, thunderous click, the door unlocked.

And then he heard voices ahead, bouncing off the walls. Fenris hid his key in a pouch at his belt, considering locking the door again to keep whoever it was out. But just as he was about to backpedal, he saw two humans; a man and a woman. Both wore armor similar to the Imperial soldiers, both were armed to the teeth.

"Sulla, let's just get out of here. Hasn't there been enough death?" Asked the woman to the man. Fenris stood perfectly still, surprised that the two had not seen him. His fingers twitched at his side, but he would not dare draw his sword and pull any attention towards him.

The man replied, "Oh, of course you want me to leave. Just waiting for me to turn my back. So you can have all the glory for yourself!"

Sulla, the man, took a swing at the woman with his sword. The woman parried the blow with her own sword, both oblivious to Fenris.

He moved his hand slowly towards his sword, and could vaguely hear Meeko padding up beside him. The dog seemed to have enough sense to know not to attack just yet. If one could kill the other, it would help to conserve Fenris' energy.

And so it had happened. Sulla killed the woman with a pierce of his sword through her neck. He straightened and then glanced to his side, and noticed Fenris standing in the entrance.

The man realized with dread that he had been caught murdering someone, and Sulla rushed towards Fenris with his sword drawn and swinging, dripping the woman's blood all over the stones.

Fenris took a breath and ripped his sword from his back. Meeko circled around the man, snapping viciously and barking.

There was a reason Fenris had survived so long on his own. He was quick, strong and possessed an inhumane amount of stamina. As a wolf could stalk its prey over leagues and leagues before bringing it down, Fenris could fight longer than any man he had ever seen without compromising much speed or accuracy. It was all thanks to spending hours every day training at Danarius'; in the sweltering Tevinter heat, sparring until his arms and shoulders were numb and his knuckles stiff.

The sword was an extension of his limbs, the dance of battle second-nature. Fenris was a fearsome thing, who fell into such a trance while fighting that with every swing it sometimes felt as if he grew stronger, quicker, defter.

Which is why it only took a few moments before Sulla fell to Fenris' blade. The two bodies stained the floor in dark crimson, and Fenris looted both of them before looking around the rest of the room, still coming down from the high of battle.

A strange mechanism was pillared in the middle of the room, golden with blue glass pieces on it, resembling the massive cube in Septimus' cave. Fenris leaned over it warily, running his gauntleted fingers over the golden surface of the thing. In the center he dug his fingers into the dips and twisted. Whatever he did, the thing triggered itself. The gold rings on the mechanism turned, shifting, and the floor fell away to a curling flight of stairs delving downwards into the stone.

Fenris walked down the stairs silently, and came upon a set of golden doors. He considered opening them, but turned away. He could not leave Evelyna alone in the other room, and would not delve further into the ruins without another blade at his side.

Heading up the stairs, he nearly walked into her. Evelyna appeared groggy, confused.

"I heard fighting," she said as Fenris frowned, trying to hide how startled he was to see her on her feet. She was a quiet thing, and he was oblivious not to hear her.

"It's fine," he told her sternly. "You shouldn't be up."

"I don't want to sleep there. It's too open."

He could not particularly disagree with that. There was no telling where this door would lead, however. It could bring them to a room even more open, with more enemies.

"Evelyna, you need to rest. If you hit your head again -"

"I won't," she protested, heading down the stairs despite him. She shouldered gently past him and Fenris sighed, wanting to argue with her, but suppressing the urge. He knew better than to argue with a dragon, as disoriented as she was.

"Use your bow, at least. From afar," Fenris growled, stepping around Meeko on the stairs. He went past Evelyna to the doors and put his palms against the cool gold. Taking a breath, he looked over his shoulder at her. _Damned woman_. "You're certain of this?"

"Yes, Fenris," she said, still sounding foggy. Fenris breathed heavily through his nose, irritation worming through him. The lantern hanging off of her hip beside her axe cast eerie shadows on her face. He wondered how she would react if he kissed her like he had wanted to before, at the fort on the way to Winterhold.

They had no time for any of that here. Fenris swallowed his desires and shoved on the golden doors.

* * *

The three of them slipped in through the crack in the door, and into a place that was a far cry from anything Fenris had ever seen before.

_This must be Blackreach,_ Fenris thought as he stood and stared at the black and blue world around him. The massive cavern was hauntingly beautiful and eerie, like a place deep under the surface of the ocean brought into a cave. Structures that looked like jellyfish seemed to float, their long tendrils touching lightly against the ground, some of which ran all the way up to the roof of the cavern and disappeared. They glowed a cool blue resembling Fenris' markings, and lights of the same shade flickered like little stars high above.

The cavern was not as cold, and with the glowing of the structures it was bright enough for Evelyna to blow out her lantern. A small breath of anxiety left Fenris as he wondered what lived here, among the eerie underworld.

Evelyna's fingers trailed across his lower back, signaling to him where she was moving. Fenris stiffened under the touch, his jaw clenching as his eyes flickered to her, his concussed elven companion. Had the injury rattled her _that_ much that she would touch him so? Usually when her fingers lingered on his back it was only to alert him to her position on the battlefield, just before a fight or during.

Fenris pivoted slowly, keeping alert for any foreign sounds. Blackreach was quiet, absent a breeze. Fenris was slowly beginning to understand Evelyna's fetish for fresh air and trees. As massive and beautiful as this cavern was, he would prefer the open tundra.

He watched Evelyna move to the corner of the platform they stood on, putting her hands on a crossbow that was nailed into the wall. Fenris walked towards it and her, with Meeko padding softly beside them.

Ahead stood a small building made of stone and gold, with its doors shut in its front. Evelyna hummed quietly to herself, eyes narrowed on something before the building. Just as Fenris began to realize what it was, it began to animate to life. The spherical, golden creature began to unfold.

Evelyna sucked in a panicked breath, and pulled the lever beside her, watching as the crossbow _thrummed_ and scattered the dwarven machine to pieces. It was a lucky guess, and Fenris was grateful for it.

In the distance, eerie sounds pierced the quiet. Chittering and screeching, wailing and crying. Fenris reached for his sword, but did not unsheathe it, for fear that it would make a sound.

Evelyna held her palms out, upwards, catching a kind of soft, glowing mist on her skin. The cavern appeared to be snowing, faintly, but it was not snow that was falling. Specks of glowing dust fell softly towards the ground from the ceiling of the cavern. Pieces caught in her hair.

But Fenris was otherwise preoccupied. "That building," he whispered after a moment. "It seems a good place to rest."

Truthfully, he could have kept going, though he was weary. He didn't trust Evelyna's abilities at the moment, though, not with her mind as rattled as it was. So many things could go wrong.

Fenris had had these concussions before; as a slave and afterwards. In particular, Hadriana's angry piques had left him dazed and unbalanced for days at times, and even then he was forced to spar with a trainer. Hadriana would laugh like the harpy-bitch she was every time he fell.

The memory made bile rise in his throat. Fenris stared at Evelyna, waiting for a response. Yes, she needed rest. She staggered slightly when she walked, and kept blinking as if hoping that would reset her mind. "Come," Fenris commanded quietly.

Evelyna's confused eyes went to him. "Where are we?"

He blinked at her and then sighed softly, eyes scanning the rest of the eerie cavern. The sounds were far-off and echoing, but whatever it was could easily be upon them. Fenris didn't want to waste any time, and he wasn't looking for a battle just yet. Evelyna could use a Shout and clip him with it, or her arrows could miss. He didn't want to risk it.

When she didn't move, Fenris arrested her wrist in his left hand and pulled. The longer they spent out in the open, the more likely a Falmer would smell them. Evelyna was incapable of realizing that in the moment, but she did not struggle against him.

Fenris brought Evelyna to the bottom of the stairs, leading off into the cool dirt floor of the cavern. Fenris could hear a Falmer's squeal not too far, but he'd be able to reach the building before it found them. Meeko whimpered beside them, still clothed in shadow.

Then Fenris stepped forward, into the blue glow of the natural plants, pulling Evelyna hastily behind him. When he glanced at the ceiling he was reminded of the night sky, with all its millions of little stars glittering among the blackness. He stepped through the light dust-snow, dragging a huffing, irritated elf behind him, and went quickly to the small building. Fenris stepped around the destroyed, Dwemer machine and shouldered open the door with a grunt.

Nothing moved in the room, which was a small relief. Fenris ignited his markings for light as he let go of Evelyna and shut the door behind them. When the door was securely shut, he nodded towards the lantern at Evelyna's hip. "Light that, if you will."

She did, pulling her magic from her fingers and setting the lantern's flame alight. Fenris dimmed himself and looked around the room. To the right was a great stone table with carvings, beside an alchemy table, an enchanting table and bookshelves filled with old, crumbling, rotting ingredients. Fenris wrinkled his nose at the smell of decay, and turned ahead, to an old stone hearth that probably hadn't been used in a century. Before it lay the bones of a skeleton long-dead and gone, picked clean by some sort of scavenger. Fenris saw Evelyna's eyes fall upon it, but her face was impassive.

A single stone bed fit for two was to the left with threadbare and moth-eaten blankets. Cobwebs grew in all corners, the rug was half-decayed.

Evelyna lit more candles that lay scattered throughout the room, and Fenris wondered when the last time was that a candle had burned in here.

Something rattled, and the warrior in Fenris pivoted, ready to lunge. But it was only Evelyna, who had found a quiver filled with black arrows. Her lips were curling slightly into a grin.

"Those are valuable?" He asked, leaning back against the stone counter, his fingers curling around its edge. Evelyna plucked an arrow from the quiver and inspected it closely.

"Yes," she said quietly. "They're daedric."

His spine stiffened at the word. "And you will use them?" He challenged, frowning.

She lifted her confused gaze to him. "I will..."

"Do they carry any... ill energy with them?"

"No," Evelyna replied, putting the arrow back in the quiver. She settled onto the stone bed, crossing her legs. "Your hair has gotten long. I could braid it for you."

Fenris inclined his head, looking at her through his white bangs. "Indeed." He tapped his fingers on the counter's edge. "Are you hungry?" He asked. Meeko tilted his head at the word, and Fenris suppressed a light smile.

He did not wait for Evelyna's answer. Fenris dug into the pockets on his belt, and found a wrapped pile of dried jerky. He tossed a piece to Meeko, and another, and went to Evelyna to split it, as well as snowberries and other dried vegetables.

Fenris sat on the uncomfortable bed, his legs stretched out before him. Meeko was spread between him and Evelyna, who laid down and hugged the wolfhound to her. Her head rested on Meeko's shoulder, twirling her fingers in his gray, woolly fur.

After a time, in the dim, flickering light of the room, Evelyna muttered, "I do not want to die here."

Fenris opened his eyes. He had nearly fallen asleep leaning against the wall. "You should be more careful," he scolded her quietly. "You were far too close to that thing."

"I had to hit it," she replied, sounding hurt. "My arrows would only do so much."

"You should have run away from it, before it hit you."

She sighed. "You were close, too."

"But I took care not to get hit." As he said it, he knew it wasn't his place to speak of such. It wasn't as though she _meant_ to get hurt and concussed. "I cannot heal you, if something goes wrong," he added, softening his voice. "You are the Dragonborn, you are too useful to be killed."

She scoffed bitterly. "It sounds as if I'm a tool."

"You are," Fenris growled, "to everyone up there. Anyone with any bit of power is going to pull at you."

"And there are still those that want me dead, despite it all." She sounded sad and weary.

Fenris remembered the letter, from a woman named Astrid, that he had found in Evelyna's satchel. Assassins had been hired to kill Evelyna, and she still stood, while they likely did not. Fenris had never asked who was after her, he did not want her to know that he had snooped. Before he could ask, however, Evelyna opened her mouth again.

"I wonder, sometimes, what would happen if I just fled to Valenwood."

"Why Valenwood?"

"I could hide among the trees. I couldn't stay here. I can't bury my head in the snow, people would see me."

Fenris snorted in a small laughter. "You're a strange woman."

"You wouldn't go with me, though, would you?" She asked, shutting her eyes, breathing in Meeko.

Fenris swallowed noisily. That was a loaded question, but he had been through more in the past few months with Evelyna than he had in the past few years with Hawke. Evelyna had saved his life, brought him to Solitude, armed him, clothed him, fed him, healed him, taught him, bought him a horse and sheltered him. They had killed a dragon in Dragon Bridge, found Meeko in an abandoned shack, passed through Labyrinthian, slayed dozens of Forsworn and another dragon at Karthspire, climbed High Hrothgar, conversed with Paarthurnax,

Evelyna had evolved; at least in Fenris' mind. When he had first met her, he thought she was some barbarian woman. In a way, she was, but she was so much more. Seeing her go toe-to-toe with a dragon, and have a light-hearted Shouting match with Paarthurnax had helped to shift his thoughts towards her. Seeing her naked at the lake near Riften and the hot springs didn't hurt, either. She had been through her share of pain; the claw scars on her back and the extensive burns on her leg reminded Fenris that anyone could move on after pain. And she a unique thing; the only Dragonborn of her time, with the weight of the fate of Skyrim on her narrow shoulders. And she was lonely.

Fenris would have pitied her, if he did not admire her in his own strange way. Would he go with her, if she left? Should he mourn for his friends, and put Skyrim at his back, leave with the only person he had ever met that was so like himself? Fenris watched her in silence; the snarls in her hair, the rise and fall of her chest, her sharp facial features. Would he leave with Evelyna, and put his past behind him - all of it?

Evelyna was asleep before Fenris could give his answer.


	15. Mining the Sun

**Hello! I should probably put a disclaimer since I haven't done that yet: I don't own Dragonage/Bioware or Skyrim/Bethesda. Anything you recognize, it's not mine.**

**Now that that pointless thing is out of the way, thank you! I've gotten several interesting and helpful reviews lately, and I've been taking a while to think them over. I've come to the conclusion that yes, I believe that this story focuses too intently on the quest line. You all know how Skyrim goes, I don't need to retell it. I'm starting to wonder if this is the reason that this story is so difficult to get out (because I will never like, re-write Hawke's storyline - it would bore me). At the same time, I know I can't please everyone. In the end, you really have to write for yourself. But I'm trying, and learning a lot. Whereas Reign Over Tevinter was so easy to write because it was so original and such a completely different story, this is not so. I wanted to really delve into how Fenris experiences Blackreach, but I think in the end I'm focusing too much on things other than him. Bear with me, guys, please. And let me know how it's working for you, by all means. It's a process, it's always a process. I can write in detail an answer to why I do everything in this story the way I do, but that would be a chapter in and of itself.**

**And now, not so pointless - Thank you a thousand times over to HereLies, Pint-sized She-bear, Lisa, Arch-Daishou, Arquise, Blinded in a bolthole, Small-Time insanity and anyone else who has reviewed/followed/read anything here. It means a lot to me, it really does!**

**So this is a terribly short chapter, I'm so sorry. I've been working tons of overtime and we just had that blizzard. Got power back finally today, and just now internet. I'll be trying to get the next chapter up ASAP, which will have a bit of Hawke in it. Also playing through Dragonborn now and loving it so far. Anyway, it's been 11 days since the last update, so I knew I had to give you guys something.**

* * *

_"Its songs competed, like kids for space  
we stared for hours in our maker's face  
they gave us picks  
said go mine the sun  
and go gold and come back when you're done.  
While you were sleeping  
you tossed, you turned  
you rolled your eyes as the world burned  
the heavens fell, the earth quaked  
I thought you must be, but you weren't awake."_

_- Elvis Perkins "While You Were Sleeping"_

* * *

Blackreach threatened to swallow both of them whole. The expansive underworld stretched for miles, but it seemed like hundreds of miles. The glowing dust drifted throughout the gaping, black world around them, falling lightly towards the ground. There was no wind in Blackreach, no breeze to wick away the sweat when Fenris and Evelyna battled, no sun to warm their faces, no rain to wash the blood away.

The eerie (and yet, hauntingly beautiful) Blackreach was speckled with the massive, jellyfish-like plants emanating their cool blue light. Fenris watched their tendrils sway gently, very much alive, and tried not to let them remind him of his own markings. The way they glowed, the way their light was almost a solemn thing - it all reminded him of himself. And not only that, but he was surrounded by creatures that had once been elven slaves.

When Evelyna told him about the Falmer, he had not really given it much thought at the time. He was pre-occupied with staying alive, and then with Evelyna's injuries. But as she slept in that safehouse that night, he found his thoughts wandering to the Falmer. They crept; skulking and deformed, screeching and blind to the world. And they were destroyed things; pitiful and beyond repair. He tried not to think about all the similarities Blackreach alarmed him with, all the ways in which he was so like the underworld. It was a kinship with the cavern that he didn't want. No, he wanted the surface.

Roads twisted through the alien environment, and Fenris led Evelyna and Meeko down them. They passed ruins that had been claimed by the underground elements, and the strange teepees of the Falmer inhabited by their pets.

Blackreach was not quiet, although at times it looked lifeless. In fact, the noises were almost incessant, and they always made Fenris shudder. There was chittering, screaming, and crying out from more creatures than Fenris could identify. The awful, terrifying sounds echoed off the cavern walls. The animals could have been ten feet away or a thousand, Fenris could not tell.

The animals did not leave them alone, either. Though no matter how many Fenris slayed of the Falmer and their bug-like and powerful pets, he could always hear more, calling in the distance. He hated this place. He hadn't been so constantly anxious since he was on the run from Danarius.

But he did not have only himself to look after, now. Fenris paused on the road and looked behind him. Evelyna was coming back to herself, slowly. She claimed that she didn't feel dizzy or foggy, but she did not walk as briskly as usual, and she had a massively difficult time trying to gain her navigational bearings this far beneath the surface. Not that Fenris particularly knew where he was going, either. They were looking for a Scroll, that was all he knew. And so far they had seen none.

Underground rivers flowed beneath the eerie glow of the plants. The ceiling glittered like a starry night; the entire cavern was awash in blue or purple light in places where the shadows did not dominate.

Evelyna stopped when she realized Fenris was looking at her. She was covered in dried blood, her hazel eyes glinting dimly in the blue aura of the world around them.

"I think we've been here," Evelyna said after a moment, her eyes slanting up towards the roof of the cavern, to a massive and warm golden orb that was caged in an intricate design of metal. There was something about that light that bothered Fenris deeply, in his core, though he could not say what it was. Why would a blind race need a light here?

"It's like the sun," Evelyna said, slight wonder in her voice. She stepped up beside Fenris, and he swallowed anxiously. Meeko whimpered beside him.

"I wouldn't trust it," he muttered quietly, "although... I cannot imagine the Elder Scroll being anywhere else in here, than perhaps in the spire below the light."

Since her injury, Evelyna had done decent enough in their battles. Still, Fenris made a conscious effort to keep enemies away from her, always being aware of what she was doing. They also took care to avoid some creatures altogether. Earlier in their journey, they had heard the deafening stomping of a creature. When they crept around and finally saw that it was a Centurion, Fenris refused to meet it in combat, instead slinking away back into the darkness. It was not a worthwhile risk.

The Dwemer had left behind many valuable items, found hoarded in Falmer and Dwemer chests. Fenris stuffed gold and silver necklaces, gemstones and rings into his pockets, hoping it would pay back his debt to Evelyna. Between battles he was almost always sure to find something of value.

The Centurions, Falmer and their Chaurus pets were not the only things lurking among Blackreach. As Fenris grudgingly headed up towards the light, and the sprawling, angled structure below it, they encountered men, Orcs, Khajits and elves with red eyes, reeking of decay and wearing ragged, torn clothes. Fenris showed none of them mercy, for they were always attacked on sight. It remained a conscious effort to steel his mind against all of these creatures, trying to forget that these were elven slaves and their servants. It was exhausting. He was going mad here, he was sure.

His limbs ached, however, before too long, after they climbed up into the spire and took a lift to the very top. The view was breathtaking, at the top of the tower, but in a way that made them shiver and frown. A platform jutted out from the cavern wall, housing what appeared to be a stone throne overlooking the dark and sprawling Blackreach. Below them now was the golden light, a massive thing and magnificent to gaze upon. It gave off no heat, but its light was bright and stunning.

Fenris leaned slightly over the edge of the platform, rolling his shoulders, looking below. Beyond his feet lay what was perhaps the city hall of the abandoned city. These towers loomed above all else in Blackreach, aside from some of the glowing, swaying plants.

But it was a quiet city, now only plagued by the disgusting Falmer and their servants. It was a city left to ruin, whose history was as forgotten as itself.

"I have a feeling," Evelyna said as she sat on the edge of the bridge, dangling her feet, "the Elder Scroll must be in that sun."

"Oh?" Fenris sat beside her, but sat on his crossed legs instead of letting them hang. Meeko was cowering by the door, too afraid to step onto the bridge that arched high above the ground below.

"But how do we open it?" She wondered.

"Let's rest and think it over a bit." Fenris dug out some food from his pockets, wondering how long they had been moving. He held out his hand to her, and Evelyna took it, her fingers brushing the lyrium on his palms. Fenris cleared his throat and bit into his own jerky.

Some minutes passed. They ate in companionable silence, listening to the sounds of Blackreach. Somewhere in the distance a waterfall tumbled down into a river.

"I don't like it here," Evelyna told him after a while. "It's unnatural."

"Indeed," Fenris agreed, glancing at Evelyna. For the first time since entering Alfthand, he could see her in sufficient, warm light. Her oval eyes were glassy and solemn. She had lost her ferocity, as if Blackreach had sucked her vigor from her and left a sad, depressed shell of a Bosmer. Her hair was a disgrace, tangled in several snarls and knots. Fenris didn't see how she could ever comb them out. Her lips were cracked and scabbed over, having been hit in the face by something, likely a Falmer.

Fenris found himself scowling at the thought. The Falmer... the more he thought of them, the more he almost... _pitied_ them? He tried to shove it down as deranged thinking, but he just couldn't find it within himself. The Falmer were slaves once, and Snow Elves, as Evelyna later clarified. But he could not grouse about the Falmer here, not when all they had to do was find the Elder Scroll and then leave this blasted place. And then it occurred to him.

"You could... Shout at it." Fenris put the words forth before he thought about it, and immediately took it back. "No, don't - it'll attract too much attention."

"Everything's dead," Evelyna said at first; voice void of any vigor. "But..." her eyes flitted towards him, solemn, "we have to try it. Let's go down in case the Scroll falls out."

* * *

_"Fus Ro Dah!"_

Fenris craned his neck to watch the huge light up above them. The light shifted in its cage, and something hit the metal cage encasing "the sun." The sound that came next would only be compared to the ringing of a bell, though it was monstrous here.

A brief silence followed. No Scroll fell to their feet, nothing came to meet them. Fenris wanted to scream.

And then they heard the roar of a dragon.

It came down from somewhere across Blackreach, as if the great bell summoned it. Fenris heard the great bellowing of fire as it hissed across the soggy ground of Blackreach, somewhere just outside the walls of this makeshift city.

Fenris found his breath, his heartbeat. This was real, this was_ his_. This was the same across the seas. As far as Fenris could ever possibly go, this would never change. He would always love the battle, the feel of heavy steel in his palms. The stances were second nature, the movements fluid, swift and strong.

The threat of a challenging, true battle pressed through the shroud of anxiety and madness in Fenris' mind, the unwelcome thoughts that invaded from being in this unpleasant place for so long. Fenris forgot about the Falmer as he plunged himself into battle beside Evelyna and Meeko. The world shrank away so that all that there was was only the fight.

Fenris swung and danced away, dodged and chopped while simultaneously fading and flaring in a wash of blue. And one dragon did not fight altogether different from the others. They had their claws, their legs, their tails, their jaws, their magic, their Shouts. But Evelyna had her Shouts, too. And Evelyna and Fenris both had their blades, their lithe speed, their desperation. It was a struggle, and Fenris threw himself behind rocks and ran more times than he could could, but the three of them were relatively good at distracting the winged beast.

In the end, the dragon did not drop anything that even resembled a scroll. They were covered in gore, and Evelyna had searched the dragon's corpse four times before giving up the effort. She screamed and sobbed and fell to her knees, as Fenris listened for any more approaching enemies.

Evelyna was not the most level-headed woman he had ever met, but he had never seen her cry, and had never imagined her being capable of it. It was not like her, not like Skyrim, to shed tears. So as it happened, he felt as if he was watching something horribly wrong, unable to do anything. He stood, not feeling comfortable enough with being in the open to sit, and watched her with a solemn interest.

Evelyna beat her fists against the dragon's scaled belly, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I can't stay in here, I can't," she cried. "Where's this damned Scroll?"

It had taken almost an hour for her to steel herself again. At that point, whatever was left in the caverns had settled down, and Blackreach was once again resumed to its usual and distant chitter.

"Come," Fenris commanded when his patience was beginning to wear thin. "We need to leave this place, with or without the Scroll. It's not worth our sanity."

Evelyna obliged, fists clenched, and gave the dragon a kick. Fenris nodded towards the nearest tower. "That may provide a way out, I hope."

In fact, the tower had eventually led them to a room with a massive Dwemer structure in it; a sphere with blue glass in its gold. There was a door below a platform, with several small pillars with buttons on them. They both fooled around with the buttons before realizing the item that Septimus had given them would fit on another pillar. Above, blue spyglasses shifted in the light and the rings of the Dwemer machine spun and rolled, aiming the shafts of light at different parts of the massive sphere.

It wasn't that they knew what they were doing, because they didn't. But they had lined up the lights with the blue glass, and then the great golden arms above all shifted and groaned and lowered a blue shell of an egg. Fenris growled, anticipating the worst. Between the golden limbs, the blue egg cracked and held in its belly something that looked mysteriously like an Elder Scroll.

Evelyna retrieved it in her hands. It was in a golden encasement, with thin handles and amethysts embedded in the material. It could be nothing else than the Elder Scroll.

Evelyna unrolled it and then shuddered backwards, staggering and groaning. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she dropped the Scroll across the floor. Fenris cursed under his breath and headed down the ramp as Evelyna blinked and shielded her eyes.

"Talos - I can't see," she muttered, rubbing at her eyes. She took a few steps as Fenris scooped the Scroll in his hands, surprised at how heavy it was.

_A blind Dragonborn_. Fenris mulled over that thought for a moment, trying not to let his despair show so plainly. He watched her in frozen silence, dreading the worst, as Evelyna blinked furiously and seemed to focus on him. In the chaos of it all, Fenris hadn't even realized that the door below the platform had opened for them.

"Alright," Evelyna blinked again, looking at the Scroll in Fenris' hands. "I'm all right. Don't open the Scroll." As if she needed to tell him.

"Then let us move on," Fenris decided. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this damned place, once and for all.

The door brought them to a lift. Fenris tucked the Scroll under his arm and kicked over the lever, making the machine churn to life. The lift brought them up and up and up, to a place that was blindingly bright and frigid. Fenris squeezed his eyes shut and felt the wind whip a cold mist into his face.

_Wind?_

Fenris blinked furiously. In the brightness came vague shapes and shadows, an outline of a landscape. And then he saw it all before him, cloaked in the pale pink light of dusk.

They were on a cold mountainside, where the last ice of winter was dripping away down the slope. A camp was before them, though it appeared old and abandoned with two tents covered in old furs, and stone chairs were set up beside a soggy fire pit. Below, to the North, the hills and mountains fell away to a dark blue horizon of ocean, where the sea met land in its constant struggle.

Wolves were howling and yipping somewhere down below, far enough away that they didn't have to worry. He wouldn't worry anyway, he _couldn't_.

Fenris could have cried in relief, just because the wind was on his face and the air was crisp and fresh.

They had made it. They were outside. They had an Elder Scroll. They had survived _Blackreach_.

Evelyna laughed, carefree and ecstatic. Meeko lurched ahead, away from the lift, and pranced across the soggy ground. Fenris looked to his side, at his elven companion in all her wild glory. They had beaten the astronomical odds of survival in such a place. The stress that had him coiled so tight was dripping away.

Fenris stepped forward out of the lift, rolling his shoulders. Exhaustion that had lingered on the edges of his consciousness began to tremble inwards, into his limbs and chest and head. Fenris' eyes felt heavy. He would give half the gems and jewels in his pockets for a glass of wine and a hot fire, a bath and walls all around him. He could fall asleep listening to the sounds of the flames, wrapped in a wolf's fur, and be lost to the world for days.

The relief, coupled with the exhaustion, left Fenris almost delirious. He looked at Evelyna, and wanted to laugh at how grime and blood was messed up in her hair and leathers. He vaguely thought of how pretty she was, in a strange way, despite it all. She collapsed onto her knees, fingers threading in the dead, frozen grass. A smile fluttered on her face, and Fenris had the impulse to pick her up and kiss her.

He thought about it for a moment, eyes focused on her smiling face, before he wiped his palms on his narrow hips and cleared his throat. No. As much as he could, as he wanted to, as he _would_... it was unkind. She was injured, compromised, vulnerable. And he still owed her, he owed her so much. Any intimacy would be wrong, conditional so far.

Fenris swallowed hard and made his way to the campfire_. They were alive,_ he thought with immense relief. For now that alone would have to suffice. His pleasures would have to wait.

* * *

_**Again, I'm sorry it's so short and it's taken so long. I'm really at a crossroads with this story, and with everything that's been happening (I've been working/snowed in without heat/complaincomplaincomplain) it's just been so hard to get even this bit out. I hope it holds you guys over until I get the next chapter out.**  
_


	16. Imminent

**I am so, so, so sorry. Really. I'm disgusted with myself.**

**This fic has inspired me to work on original (non-fanfic) work, and with that I lose all motivation to write this story. Ugh. I hate it. Because I fucking love this story, too. I daydream about it before I go to bed, imagining Fenris is different situations. I'm a freak of nature, I know.**

**Life is a killer. Since my last update, my boyfriend has moved across the country (and potentially back soon), my neighbors were involved in the Boston marathon bombing which put my neighborhood on lockdown (OMG RIGHT?!), I've been tackled at work by a grown man (I work in a psychiatric unit), and I've been picking up as many hours at work as I can, starting my Master's program. Alongside with that, I've been completely obsessed with Game of Thrones (damn Gendry/Joe Dempsie is fiiiine - and I'll be writing a fic about him soon perhaps). **

**/Complain.**

**Every few days I get another follow/favorite on this story, and I know I have to keep going. And if it weren't for the positive, insightful reviews that you all have, I wouldn't have gotten nearly this far.**

* * *

_**"Settle down, settle down, my desire**_

_**and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor**_

_**though no longer bereft oh I shook and I couldn't remember."**_

_**- Joanna Newsom**_

* * *

_Earlier_

Two wolves crossed the road ahead. The gray canines glanced only fleetingly at Hawke, Isabela, Varric and Merril; blood dry on their shaggy muzzles, snow caked in their paws. They bounded across the road and into the thick of the trees, silent and powerful.

Hawke wondered where Fenris was, traveling with a woman named Evelyna. Was he a hostage? Or had he truly made a companion, a friend, in this frigid land? It seemed unlikely, impossible even. He didn't make friends in his home land, let alone this breathtaking place with strange creatures and customs. Fenris did not trust others, and yet he was one of the most loyal men Hawke had ever known. If Fenris was alive, he was likely a hostage, not a free man. Fenris would be searching for them otherwise.

Hawke dipped his hands in his pockets, and found what was left of their money. The coinpurse that Evelyna had left for them in Solitude was mostly empty by now. They had spent money on armor, weapons, clothing, food and lodging; trying to orient themselves to this land that was not Thedas. There was too little left for a carriage to Whiterun, which in all likelihood was a trap.

Hawke would rather spend money on something useful like armor as opposed to transportation. His legs worked, he could walk. They could steal some horses too, if needed, but they were too wary of this foreign land and its potential laws and punishments to risk it. The last thing he needed was to lose his head for stealing a horse.

They knew little of Skyrim. A few days in Solitude had taught them much, however. Isabela could glean information out of any hot-blooded man in the blink of an eye. They learned of a Civil War and the return of the dragons, and someone called the Dragonborn. She was supposedly some beautiful barbarian "Wood Elf" who could kill men with her voice alone.

Half of it was nonsense and the other half even more confusing, but Hawke kept any and all information stored away in his thoughts. It was not the first time he would have to learn a new way of life.

"Those wolves..." Hawke noted, "they are not like Ferelden wolves."'

"Nothing is like Ferelden anything here," Varric noted, grumbling. "Or Thedas, for that matter."

"I've never seen mountains like these," Merrill agreed, who still had sufficient trouble walking in her new laced boots.

"And the women are brutish," Isabela said, smirking at Hawke. "They all need a good lay, don't you think? In Solitude I thought I was surrounded by a thousand Avelines."

Hawke chuckled, but the thought of Aveline triggered something in his mind. The explosion, the attack on Kirkwall, Anders' defeated expression, Cullen holding a blade towards Meredith, the slave statues coming to life in the gallows, Orsino's flesh twisting into a wretched abomination. Hawke could feel his own dagger plunging deep into Anders' flesh, could hear the way his friend had met death on his own hands.

Hawke's mind was a dark place now. He was a haunted man, tormented. When he shut his eyes at night he could see his mother's face, stitched to different parts of other women's bodies. He could see Bethany dying in the Deep Roads, Carver crushed to death in Lothering. He could see all those people that had died that fated night in Kirkwall. The only thing that ever kept him anchored in reality, in _sanity_, was Isabela. Thank the Maker for the Pirate Queen.

He put a gentle palm on the small of her back as they wandered up old stone steps, beneath ancient archways. Hawke half expected it to lead to a village, or a home, but as they climbed, an ethereal woman's voice spoke to them. It came from the very sky and the rocks at their feet, all at once, all around them.

_"A new supplicant approaches. Listen. Hear me and obey. A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. But first, you must restore to me my beacon. I shall guide you unto it. West of here by a league, in Pinemoon Cave. Find it and return here. And great shall be your reward."_

Hawke stopped, and looked around at his friends. Everyone had the same expression; eyes wide, mouth parted, stopped in their tracks. Varric was the first to recover, finding his footing and nodding past Hawke.

"I think it's the... the statue," he said.

Hawke looked forward and saw it. A hooded woman stood with long wings that brushed the stone platform below, a leg exposed from beneath her robes. Her hands were held up as if to frame and hold up something, but there was nothing between her stone palms.

"I like great rewards," Isabela said with a sly smirk.

"I do too," Varric agreed.

Hawke swallowed. "The... statue... wants us to go west. I don't know the lay of this land well, but Whiterun is southeast of here. Fenris could be a hostage, right now. We have to get him."

"If he is a hostage," Varric began, "whatever our reward is, we could share with this Evelyna. She'd probably want payment for him."

"I'll kill her if she's holding him hostage," Hawke replied, frowning. "I'm not losing any more of my friends."

"Either way, kitten," Isabela purred, "we need money. If we do kill the woman, we should make sure we have some practice. When have you ever turned down an adventure? What could possibly go wrong? If Fenris is a hostage, then she wants something, and she'll keep him alive another day. If he isn't, then she'll keep him alive another day. Besides, of all of us, I think Fenris can take care of himself."

Hawke's eyes lifted to the statue of the... whatever she was. A queen, a goddess, he couldn't tell. He'd probably regret this decision. But Isabela and Varric had a point. The second this "Evelyna" crossed the line with Fenris, he'd murder her. From afar, there was nothing they could do to help him.

"Very well," Hawke allowed, "let's find this bloody cave."

* * *

_Fenris_

"You look upset."

"Nonsense. I am content."

"With what?"

"I'm content to be away from Blackreach." He sucked in a slow breath and then glanced sidelong at his companion. He went on, venturing so far as to tell her, "I thought I would go mad in there."

Her eyes, unbelieving at first, flickered to him and then settled. He saw a kinship between them for a brief moment before he had to look away in his own shame. "I think I did go mad in there," she confided, spurring her horse onward.

After Blackreach, they began to make their way southwards, towards the west. The harsh mountains were giving way to the rolling tundra, the sea of grass shivering beneath a soft summer breeze. Rivers rumbled and tumbled through crevices in the earth; swollen and rushing from the ice melt beneath a warm sun. Fenris had even shed some of the furs that he had wrapped around him, soaking in the sunlight on his own skin. He was no longer cold during the days, and sometimes if he shut his eyes he imagined a thick, wet heat and the buzzing of cicadas, he would have to remind himself that he was not in Tevinter.

No, this was such a far cry from Tevinter. If Danarius could see him now, he'd roll in his grave (if the Kirkwall guard had even given him one, though Fenris hoped they had just chucked his remains into the sea or fed him to the stray dogs). He'd be amazed at Fenris; riding in a saddle made of leather and fur atop a massive, barrel-chested creature with feathered hooves and wary eyes. He'd be amazed that Fenris found himself in the company of an elf; a female dressed in leathers, fur and steel. And he'd be raging mad to see that Fenris had certain feelings for this woman.

Fenris found his lips pressed together in a sort of wry smile, squinting from the bright, pale sun. "Madness is not always far from us all."

"Have you ever felt its bite?"

Fenris swallowed hard. Blackreach had taken everything from him mentally, and he was recovering just a little bit more everyday. To live in such an eerie, haunting place really took its toll on the mind. Even the echo of the air on the stones could be mistaken for something deadly and far-off, and it was no way to live, constantly jerking away or hiding and slinking through the shadows. And yet, that's how Fenris had lived for so long. He refused to return.

But the question took his mind from Blackreach and to Thedas. "Madness?" He clarified. When Evelyna nodded, he could remember so many things. Danarius and Hadriana torturing him, the light-headed, weightless hunger that happened after a few days with no food, the incessant struggle of training in the courtyard. Many long days Fenris was forced to remain in his small, windowless room with nothing to occupy him or nourish him. Yes, he knew madness. He knew it like he knew rage and cynicism, fear and fury. "I know it all too well, Evelyna."

She scoffed, but not with any humor. Her eyes fell to her horse beneath her legs as she tenderly combed her fingers through her horses' hair. "I think it is due to this violent existence we find ourselves in."

"In Thedas, there are men and women who go their entire lives without ever fighting anyone."

"What are they like?"

"Naiive, ignorant. They think the world is a good place."

Evelyna blinked sadly and Fenris wondered if those were tears he saw in her eyes, unshed but waiting. "Fenris..." she began, hesitantly, "in Blackreach, you were willing to give up. That doesn't... that doesn't seem like you."

He averted his eyes. Fenris always walked a careful line in his life (since as far as he could remember). He has never been able to fully divulge in his thoughts, feelings and past because it all makes even the hardest person uncomfortable. No one wants to hear about a slave's problems. "You were losing it," he said after a moment, unconvincingly. "Your head, your mind. You were going there, where you shouldn't go. We couldn't afford it."

She nodded thoughtfully. The wind blew the strays of her hair over her shoulders. "I know. But this is the... this is the potential genocide of my people, of all of Skyrim's people. If the price for that is madness, then that's fine with me."

That's why she was the Dragonborn. Hero's are meant to be selfless. Fenris could never be such, he knew. Since he could remember, he had to fight just to stay alive. Anything beyond that was a miracle. Even if he were some prophecy born unto the world, he wouldn't act upon it. The world didn't love him, and he didn't love it. But Evelyna did.

"I..." Fenris hadn't meant to speak. But as he had done so, he knew it needed to be said. Damn the consequences, whatever they may be. "I was closer to madness than you, in that moment, I think. I kept looking around, seeing the glowing trees. I could hear the monsters in all directions, all hours of the day, of the night. I never knew the time, judging things by how hungry I was, how_ tired_ I was. Blackreach is empty, cold, dark and dangerous. That's how I've lived every day before getting to Kirkwall. I am Blackreach, if Blackreach were a person. Then for you to tell me that the Falmer were once Elven slaves..." he shuddered unwillingly and stared at Evelyna. _I'd kill you if you ever made me go back there... maybe._ "I couldn't take it."

"But you did," Evelyna replied. "You took control when I couldn't anymore."

A moment passed. The rivers cut through the tundra, all swollen and cold with the summer's ice melt. Their horses clopped across a creek, the hooves sucking away from the soggy ground. Above, the sky was bright and clear and all too beautiful. But after Blackreach, everything was beautiful. Everything was fresh and green and warm.

"You would have," he told her slowly. "If no one was there with you. If you survived, you wouldn't have broken down like that. When you're alone you're strong." He knew that so bitterly well.

Evelyna disagreed. Her lips pressed tight together as she shifted in the saddle. The furs on her skirts shifted, exposing the burn on her leg (which was now almost healed), and Fenris found himself distracted briefly._ Damned woman_.

But she spoke, anchoring his thoughts back in reality. "I'd be dead if you weren't there. We both know it. Talos' shit, Fenris, I can't believe it. I'm the Dovahkiin, I'm supposed to be able to do this by myself. But I can't. I can't do this on my own."

Her voice had cracked somewhere in there. Fenris stared ahead, only daring to glance at her in his peripherals. It was exactly as it felt. He was a wolf; a mean, slinking thing that slipped through the trees. And he was witnessing a dragon, the king of all creatures, breaking down, all vulnerable. He felt like he had an advantage, somehow. A sick, shameful advantage. Like he could ruin her with the flick of his wrist. Like he was the predator watching his prey limp away.

He felt sick.

He said nothing, not sure if it was because it might be the best thing to say or that he was incapable of comforting others. Something deep inside alarmed him. A voice, that whispered that he should be harder on her. She's the damn hero, she should act like one. There's no time to be crying like she had been in Blackreach. There's no time to be complaining about her incompetence.

And yet, Fenris couldn't bring himself to be so cruel. She _needed_ this. Just like all those years he had needed a decent meal and conversation with someone who wasn't judging him based on his markings. All those years running that he had needed a soft bed and a hot bath. Perhaps if he had gotten those things, he wouldn't be the menacing shell he was.

"My apologies," he heard her say. "You have enough on your mind. I don't want you to feel obligated, to, you know. I mean, I have Lydia that can travel with me."

"_Venhedis_," he grumbled. "Don't bother yourself with me."

"You're only here because you think you're paying me back for saving me."

He sucked his teeth and stared ahead, feeling her eyes on him. But she continued.

"You've already paid me back, Fenris. I would've died in there without you. Go, if you want. You owe me no debt."

A life for a life. Is that all it had to be? Fenris felt the heavy weight in his pockets of the treasures he had stolen from inside the depths of Blackreach. He had planned on giving Evelyna the majority, keeping enough for himself to be able to survive for a few years while he searched for Hawke. But when he imagined it as he lay down at night, he couldn't see himself running off and abandoning Evelyna. It seemed shallow, fake, when he had done it in his mind's eye.

"You could survive fine on your own," she clarified, "I've taught you everything import-"

"Stop," he snapped. Evelyna blinked at him. Their horses snorted as Meeko whined behind them. "I don't want to leave yet," he told her. "Let's just... let's get to Whiterun, and we'll discuss it."

If he had meant to console her, it seemed as if that wasn't the right thing to do. Evelyna looked away, and they spent the rest of their ride in silence.

That night, they found shelter in a grove of soldier pines. Fenris was stretched out against the trunk of a tree with his legs on the forest bed of soft pine needles. Meeko's jaw rested on his lap, the wolfhound breathing slowly.

Fenris tilted his head and could see the firelight cast upon the bellies of the pine trees, the bottoms of their limbs and branches. In the gaps, he could see the stars all sparkling and gorgeous. In Blackreach there were stars, but they were blue and nestled in the roof of the caverns, not true stars. Not like this. This was beautiful beyond words.

The breeze shivered through the grove, fiddling with the pines and making them tremble. He was so grateful for its whisper. He had never longed for the breeze so much before, aside from being locked in a dark room at Danarius', and of course in Blackreach. Maker's ass, he was glad to be done with that place. He'd never go back if he had any say in it.

In the varying distance, the wolves prowled the tundra. Their songs swept up the hills like a swollen river, dancing through the trees and the rocks. Fenris wasn't so frightened of them anymore. He dropped his calloused palm lazily on Meeko's neck and scratched the dog behind the ears. His eyes fell, as they often did, to Evelyna.

He observed her intensely in the firelight, as if he'd miss it with a blink. Her eyes were closed, her legs crossed before her. Her palms were flat on her bent knees, and he could see midway up her thigh to where the skirts ended. His pulse quickened, and he looked at her face. Thick eyelashes twitched, but she didn't open those eyes, and her mouth was frowning.

An uneasy sense of anticipation thrummed in his stomach. Tomorrow, or the next day, they would arrive in Whiterun. He would pay her the jewels he found in Blackreach, and they would be even, though he could never truly repay her for saving him. They would be equals, though that was really only so true. He could never be her equal. No man ever could.

Her soul was a different thing entirely. She was a dragon - all beautifully terrifying. But like all dragons, she was doomed. There would never be hope for her to be happy. She'd be lonely for all her long, endless days. Every man would be proud to have her, but they wouldn't be proud that she would stoop so low for any man. She could never love someone without being ashamed of herself. Even if she were to marry a king, she should feel ashamed. As any dragon, she was the most spectacular among her own kind, or by herself.

She would always have an inherent responsibility to help, Fenris knew. He almost ached in pity for her. They had been through so much strife already, and yet there was no end in sight. At least he would have the pleasure of dying in the next sixty or seventy years. Evelyna had another nine-hundred to go, if she would live that long, of being this prophetic hero. And all she really wants is a quiet place to lay her head at night, with a warm fire, a mug of ale and fresh air. Though some nights she may have that, when she awakens in the morning, there will be more to do.

He kept seeing her in his mind's eye - back in Blackreach, beating her fists on the dead dragon, sobbing and weeping.

She_ needed_ this. This moment - of just sitting there in her meditative, calm silence. Just like how he needed to sharpen his blade every once in a while, or how he liked to shine his armor. It was just an escape from the overwhelming, crushing reality of life. It was harmless, usually short, and it made the next few minutes of life a bit more bearable. Damn the world, damn it all, for just these few moments.

Fenris wanted to grab her. What he would do with her if she were in his grip, he wasn't sure. All at once he could kiss her or shake her for this mess they've both gotten into, although neither of them had wanted this. He hadn't wanted their ship to crash north of Skyrim, of a place he's never been. He had never wanted to be separated from Hawke and all of them. And yet, if he could do it over, and have control over things... he might not change it at all.

He blinked, surprised at himself. Meeting Evelyna was a bit of a nightmare and a blessing at the same time - he was finding himself in dangerous situations, but he liked her company. He even found himself thinking of her when he shut his eyes at night, found himself staring at her when she wouldn't know, committing her shape, her face and her idiosyncrasies to memory. Just in case she would be gone soon.

And she could be, at this rate. One blow from an enemy, just too strong, could snap her neck. One bite from a dragon that she allowed too close. And she would be beyond anything anyone could ever do.

"Something wrong?"

Fenris had been staring at her exposed thigh. His eyes lifted, caught, and he felt the blood rush up into his neck. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable.

"Er, no."

She smiled and then shut her eyes again. "You've been quiet since we left Blackreach."

"I'm always quiet," Fenris replied with a small scoff. He settled himself more comfortably against the pine tree and sighed. "Every time you step into a town there's some trouble. Something happens. Pardon me for not wanting to deal with any more nonsense..."

She grinned and opened her eyes again. "I can't do a damn thing without making another enemy." She shook her head. "I thought you were going to be my enemy for a while there."

There she did it again. Every once in a while, when he thought he was safe, she'd go and say something that struck him somewhere in his being. Like she held a mirror up to him and made him look at himself. And he never liked what stared back at him.

"We are friends, are we not?"

_Friends_. He sucked in a slight breath, trying to be quiet._ Friends._ "I've never had a friend. Aside from Hawke, Aveline and her husband, perhaps Isabela and Varric as well. Most abandon me. Even my own sister."

He felt the shame well up within him, but sometimes his anger and bitterness had to seep through. Like a pressure that built and built, with no real cause and no remedy aside from lashing out. There were times where he could tear down a wall, times where he had. There were times he had run for miles and miles, one city to another, even without slavers on his heels. All to slip away from the rage. And the rage was a brutal thing. It left little room, little energy within himself at the end of the day. Sometimes he thought that was all he was; fury.

Hazel eyes watched him, amber in the glow of the warm firelight. There was a crackling in the fire, the slow breathing of Meeko on Fenris' lap. The song of the wolves in the far distance, all hungry and feral things rolling up the hills. The breeze rustled the soldier pines in the slightest of whispers, voices of the wild.

"I didn't abandon you."

"No," he admitted, averting his eyes in the intimate moment. "You didn't."

* * *

_Earlier_

An ethereal fog crawled along the floor of Pinemoon Cave. Hawke wrenched his sword from his enemy, who lay slumped against a wooden bench. Garrett ran the blade along the robed person, wiping off the blood from the steel. His eyes lingered on the creature's face; pale, with red eyes and sharp fangs.

"Some sort of abomination, it seems," he could hear Merrill's voice, soft as it was, carry through the cave. Braziers burned in the center of the room, casting long and eerie shadows on the walls and the floor. Hawke pushed away the hair on the abomination's face and stared at the creature, haunted by it.

He straightened himself and looked around. They had been ambushed by these creatures, whatever they were, but they had killed them all. Isabela was fiddling with a chest on the center of a platform, glowing in the light cast from the braziers.

Then the voice called to them, as if from the walls of the cavern. Instinctively, Hawke flinched, but relaxed. It was the same voice as from the shrine.

_"A new hand touches the Beacon. Return it to me on Mount Kilkreath."_

And that was all. "Maker's tits," Varric could be heard saying. "I don't like this... magic, or whatever is happening. I feel like I'm in the damned Deep Roads all over, with Bartrand losing his fucking mind."

"This is the Beacon?" Isabela's voice carried through the cave as she stood up tall nearby the braziers in the center of the cavern. The fire made her skin amber, her hair shone where the blood was clumped on it. In her hands she held a silver ball with odd, asymmetrical flat shapes covering its surface. The way she held it gave the sense that it was light as could be, but it looked heavy and dense. "The... voice spoke as soon as I touched it. Unless anyone else has it?"

Varric gave a shrug, and Merril hadn't been touching anything. Hawke furrowed his brow and sat back on his heels.

"Let's head back towards the statue then. If we make it in time, we can stay in that town tonight. What's the one, with the bridge?"

"Dragon Bridge," Varric provided.

"Ah." Garrett stood and wiped his hands on his breeches. He had had enough of these abominations for one day.

It took longer than one day, finding Dragon Bridge. They had returned the Beacon to the statue, and the statue, and were sent into the Kilkreath Temple to murder a man named Malkoran. It had been a nightmarish fight; Isabela had fallen from a wall and was knocked unconscious, while everyone else survived less serious injuries. Still, it left the company exhausted so that they collapsed and built a meager fire just on the inside of the temple and fell deeply asleep.

Dragon Bridge was more than a welcome sight. They struggled into the village with dried gore and blood on their skin and armor, having only been able to wash parts of it off in the rivers. Lanterns and torches flickered in the fading light, and waterfalls roared through a ravine, drowning out any sounds of birds or wolves.

"Hawke," Varric nodded his strong chin towards a heap of something beside a guard. Bones, it looked like.

"What is it?" He wondered, narrowing his eyes. They descended down the slope as quickly as they could, hobbling along, but once they were closer he could decipher it. "A skeleton."

The guard beside the skeleton turned and noticed them, watching them warily.

"What happened?" Hawke asked, wiping his palms on his armor, glancing at the skeleton with sincere interest.

"Dragon," the guard responded in that accent that Hawke still was surprised to hear. "Swooped down on the village a few days ago. Luckily, we had the Dragonborn sleeping in our very own tavern. A sign, it was."

"A few days ago?" Varric asked uncertainly. "Did it rot that quickly or was it picked clean?"

The guard snorted. "Neither. When it died, its' soul swirled about in the air, with everything else. The Dragonborn took it into herself, never seen anything like it. It became part of her, leaving only bone."

Isabela chuckled. "I'd love to see this woman. When you play with dragons, what is the saying-"

"You get burned," Varric finished, his voice lacking all the mirth it normally carried.

The guard stared at them for a moment. "She's gone now, took off on horseback with a man, an elf like herself, headed over the bridge."

Hawke stared at the skeleton, not making the connection. Merrill, normally oblivious, stepped towards the guard. "An elf? What did he look like?"

The guard shrugged. "Like an elf, I don't know. A Wood Elf. He had white hair though, and white markings. Besides that, he looked like all the rest of you."

Hawke sucked in a breath, and between his companions they all shared a look of understanding, of horror even. Fenris was with the Dragonborn? That couldn't be good. "You don't know where they went?" Hawke asked.

"Nay," replied the guard, his shoulders drooping a bit. "As soon as the dragon was dead, she gathered up her things and the left like they were being chased. They moved south, over the bridge. That's all I know. On one of those cow-colored horses you find around Markarth. Why? You have a dragon problem she can solve for you?"

"Don't we all?" Isabela asked, smirking. Hawke scoffed and cast another long glance at the skeleton. Fenris had faced the dragon, beside the Dragonborn, Evelyna.

"I need a drink," Hawke said after a moment, turning towards the Four Shields Tavern. The guard bid them well as they headed slightly up the slope, stomping their feet to kick off the dirt on the deck of the tavern. Hawke cast a glance at his companions before opening the door to the tavern, the same tavern that only just held Fenris.

Not long later, when they had their drinks in their hands, they began to plan.

"What do we know about the Dragonborn, collectively?" Isabela asked seriously. "She's a barbarian Wood Elf, right? Is that it?"

Hawke ticked off his fingers after a long swig of ale. "She can shout men to death, whatever that means. She lives in Whiterun. She has Fenris."

"It doesn't make sense," Merrill said after a moment. Even the smallest dose of wine made her slur. "If this woman is so powerful and important, she wouldn't be taking hostages, right? What would she want with Fenris?"

Isabela raised an eyebrow. "What wouldn't she want with Fenris? No offense, kitten." She smiled at Hawke. "Powerful women like powerful men."

Merrill blinked as that realization dawned on her. "But the men here seem powerful."

"But he's exotic, and her own kind at that. Do you think he told her where we're from?" Varric wondered, hands folded. "And what are we going to do about it?"

Hawke rubbed his chin and looked at the low, long fire burning in the tavern. "Well, I'm glad we bought weapons and armor. We might need them against her."

Suddenly, Isabella got up and sauntered over to the woman working at the counter. Hawke couldn't hear their conversation, but Isabela came back with a sly grin on her face. She sat down and leaned forward as if to whisper to them. "It seems Fenris and Evelyna shared a room the night they stayed. They shared a pheasant and a bottle of wine, and spent much of the night looking at maps and talking. I asked if anything seemed amiss, she said they were perfectly fine and quiet."

"Fenris is smart, though," Varric reminded them, "he would play along if his life were at stake. And then kill her when he had the opportunity."

"Would he?" Hawke wondered. "They say that some slaves love their chains. Only if he thought she was much more powerful than him."

"We'll have to find out," Isabela said.

"We'll see him soon, and see who this woman really is."

* * *

_- Later - _

Coming back to Whiterun after so long stirred something in the pit of Fenris' being. It wasn't quite home, but it was getting there. And if that was supposed to bother him, then he was doing something wrong. His spirits were lifted with the balmy breeze sweeping over the earthy tundra and the bubbling streams carving their way through the lowlands. Evelyna was even singing at times in Bosmeri, which he couldn't understand at all but it sounded light and pretty coming from her.

Their horses burst out in a full gallop as they began to near the city. The hooves clopped along on the road, and Evelyna was laughing, her hair snarling and blowing behind her. Fenris held on for his life but wouldn't dare fall behind. The wind was a beautiful thing on his face, and he swore to never take it for granted again, nor the brisk cold of Skyrim. The sun was pale and softly warming them, hawks were crying above, their horses were huffing and grunting with the effort it took to propel their massive bodies.

As they neared Whiterun, a guard cursed at them to slow down, which they did before they would destroy the bridge itself. Evelyna erupted in loud laughter as Meeko barked far behind them, trying to keep up.

Fenris even found himself chuckling and looking at Evelyna, feeling his heart beat in his chest, his legs, his fingers. His being felt younger, freer of all the trauma, of the bonds he had suffered for his whole life. It was a good day, a beautiful day.

They had cause to celebrate. They had survived Blackreach, Mzulft, the dragon that came forth from the underground sun. Fenris was giddy inside, feeling like his soul could lift and blow away with the wind, erupting like fireworks.

Their horses were boarded in the stables outside of town. Fenris walked beside Evelyna and felt glad, so glad, to be back in the walls of humanity, of elfkind, in a community. And yet, part of him almost missed the quiet forests, the thick of the trees and hot springs, the very_ existence of being_ one out there, in nature and with Evelyna.

How long had it bloody been since they had been in Whiterun? Fenris began to tally up the days as Evelyna fiddled with her key in the door to Breezehome.

They were going to put down their things and head to the Bannered Mare, with the intention of stumbling back drunk and singing, with a full and warm belly. They would have a lovely night together, full of that meaningful talk and smiles, and perhaps even the gentle touches on his back, the reassurance that he wasn't the kind of man he seemed to be. They would celebrate their night, their victories and forget their troubles. For tonight, just for tonight. Tomorrow everything else could wait. His friends, Serana, what to do about that talking dragon Paarthurnax. But tonight would belong to them and to their bloody well-being, their mental health. Fenris was more than ready for it, for it all.

And the door swung open to Evelyna's Breezehome, and Fenris stepped in behind her. A fire was already burning. He didn't even consider it. _Lydia_, the back of his mind spoke. With comfort, Fenris realized nothing had changed. It was the same home, the same lovely little place in this calm and soft city.

And then there was Lydia's thunderous storming down the stairs, eyes wild as Fenris leaned his sword on the weapon rack. Evelyna hardly had time to breathe before Lydia hit them hard with news.

"My Thane, and er, Fenris. The people that are looking for you, ser -" her brown eyes flitted between them both, unsure of who to tell the news to.

"What?" Fenris found himself growling. His stomach was falling, his head beginning to swim. He wasn't even drunk yet.

"They - they're here. They're in Whiterun."

* * *

**Too soon? Maybe. I'm sorry if you think so. But I'll never finish the story if I don't do it.**

**Khaine the betrayer, Nemo, Mordantmonkey69, LittleNK, Cyricist001, Arquise, Guest (lol), HereLies (LOVE, LOVE, LOVE you and your understanding of my story, thank you!), Pint-sized She-Bear, Luxlucis85DK, Smalltimeinsanity. Thank you all so much. If it weren't for you, I probably would've never written this chapter. Jesus, you guys deserve so much better, to have it finished like ASAP. I will work as hard as I can on it. I love you all.**


	17. Free

**AN:** The feedback I've been getting from you guys has brought me to tears a few times. Wow. The fact that anyone would take time out of their day to read something I wrote is amazing, let alone someone would read my stuff for 5 hours straight (looking at you, **KyrianStormdancer**). I can't believe the following this story has. Seriously. Y'all heartworm (I mean heartwarm) me. Thank you to all of you who have followed, along wit**h Spirally, Lanari, Pint-sized **(seriously though),** Cegorach, tmjay10, Cyricist001, LittleNK, AR310** (Okay I won't!), **KyrianStormdancer, WickedLullaby** (I'm so glad I inspire you, thank you!), **Arquise** (I missed you!), **mordantmokey69** (heheh well of course),** Tevinter of our Discontent, Emerald's Vengeance , AnImEfAN506, pregar** (thank you!),** cristalliser and beserkerbeast**! Wow, there are so many more of you than ever.

Also, highly recommend the music I included in this chapter. The Mediaeval Babes have the most beautiful voices, and their music is perfect for writing and studying.

Taking a few liberties here, with the customs of feeding someone. Taken from George R.R. Martin, who took it from old English tradition, I believe. Anyway. Also, for anyone who's thought of it; I'm going to completely ignore the fact that Thedas has one moon and Nirn has two. There's nothing I can do at this point to change that. Whoops! I wasn't going to have some magical teleportal thing happen because then I'd have to explain it, and I don't know how that could ever possibly work. Eek.

* * *

_"My care is like my shadow, laid bare beneath the sun,_

_It follows me at all times, and flies when I pursue it,_

_I freeze and yet am always burned_

_Since from myself again I turn_

_I love and yet am forced to hate,_

_I seem stark mute, inside I prate,"_

_- The Mediaeval Baebes "The Virgin Queen"_

* * *

With that one sentence, Lydia had sucked the air from the room, had ripped the earth from beneath their feet. Fenris allowed the news to seep into high awareness as he braced himself against the weapon rack, struggling to keep from passing out. Hawke was _here_, in_ Whiterun_. Hawke had come to_ him_.

The search was over. He could leave. He didn't_ have_ to follow her anymore.

Fenris looked at Evelyna, who seemed to take just a moment longer to process the news and come to the similar conclusion. Her expression was stoic, somber even. Her mouth gaped for a moment, but then it closed and she seemed to gather herself. Her eyes met his, and he felt his stomach churn with uncertainty.

_What are you thinking, she-dragon?_ He wanted to ask. _Do you think I'm going to flee like a sheep under your claws?_

Something didn't feel right in the room, unnatural. Silence stretched all long and imposing, and Lydia seemed on-edge, wary.

"Where are they?" Fenris asked, his heart pounding in his chest. "How many of them are there?"

"Four," Lydia replied quickly, watching him with attentiveness odd even for her. Then she hesitated. "They're likely out helping in the fields or doing jobs for Irileth for money. That's what they've been doing for the last week they've been here. I stay here and allow them inside when they're done for the day."

_Four. _Hawke, Isabela, Merrill and Varric. They had all survived. They were all _here_. And while Fenris was relieved immensely... he felt an anxiety and irritation welling up in his core.

"They've been staying here?" Evelyna asked, glancing around for signs that her home had been inhabited.

"Yes, my Thane. However... may I speak with you privately?"

Lydia looked ashamed for a moment and then glanced at Fenris with irritation. She was hiding something, and Evelyna noticed at once. "Speak freely, Lydia, he won't harm you."

"I know he won't," Lydia snapped, more towards Fenris than Evelyna. "It's just... my Thane, they've come to Whiterun armed to the teeth. They seem to be expecting a fight. I insist on staying with you. To protect you."

The Housecarl's eyes flitted to Fenris, and he felt a sickening guilt and shame within him. Did Lydia suspect him for a traitor, to turn on Evelyna? _Why shouldn't she suspect me? I am capable of it_, he reminded himself. _I killed the Fog Warriors. They were my friends. Why would the Dragonborn be any different?_

But he wouldn't do that here and now, that much he knew. Evelyna was not his enemy. He snarled in response. "Watch yoursel-"

"Fenris," Evelyna interjected calmly. "Lydia, we'll be fine. These are his friends. If it pleases you, you can check on us tonight. Will they be back today?"

Lydia pressed her lips together tightly, not placated but perhaps understanding it was the best she would get from either of them. "I believe so."

And then Evelyna looked at him, calm on the outside though he could see the storm swirling inside of her. Did she feel betrayed? Why should she? Because of Lydia's stupid interpretation? Was he that difficult to understand, that murky of a person that she could still imagine him capable of turning on her? He realized he hadn't given her any reason to truly trust him, aside from saving her from the Centurion in Blackreach.

He felt a growl in his throat, but suppressed it. This wasn't a conversation he could have before anyone else, where his loyalties may lie. As if sensing the tension in the room, Lydia shifted on her feet, uncomfortable. "How were your travels, my Thane? You've been gone too long. You've been missed by Whiterun."

It took a moment for the Dragonborn to avert her gaze from him, but when she did she had a solemn frown on her face. She had dark circles under her eyes, which seemed glassy and wet in the firelight. She was the Dragonborn, but beneath her exterior was a woman still, a woman worn thin with stress, exhaustion and responsibility. "We've been across Skyrim a thousand times, I think, since I've last been home."

It was true. They had conquered High Hrothgar, met Paarthurnax, visited the Dawnguard, traveled to Windhelm and got in a scuffle with Stormcloaks in Candlehearth Hall. They had gone to Winterhold and the Mage's College before paddling up the ice fields to meet that madman living in a cave. And then they had gotten back to land to conquer Blackreach. And that all wasn't to say for their mental struggles, their dabbling with madness. Fenris felt like he could spend the next year in solitude, in silence, just recovering and reflecting, and it all still wouldn't be enough.

"We need rest," Evelyna told Lydia, mirroring Fenris' thoughts. "We need wine and a hot fire and dry, clean clothes, a bath, and meals fit for jarls. After I've gotten that, Lydia, I'll tell you anything you want to know. But I'm tired now. And we have company coming. Hungry company."

"Hungry for what, my Thane?" Lydia asked, glancing at Fenris sternly. She hadn't been expecting a response from either of them, but Fenris couldn't contain himself.

"Hold your tongue, Lydia," he growled.

Lydia wasn't convinced, but despite her shortcomings, she knew better than to argue. She surrendered, despite the obvious tension winding her up, and nodded to her Thane. She cast a brief, irritated glance at Fenris, and sighed. "You're sure I can't be of assistance?"

"I'm sure, Lydia. You aren't a servant. Go, enjoy your night. Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you what we've done."

"Very well," she sighed begrudgingly and turned. She looked like a scolded puppy. "I am at your service, as always, and will await further command in Dragonsreach."

Evelyna gave her a small, gentle smile. "Take care, Lydia. I'll visit you soon."

On her way out, Lydia glanced at Fenris with more than a hint of animosity. He stood still and stoic, only his fingers twitching as if they wanted to curl into fists. It was the feathery touch of Evelyna's hand on his shoulder that startled him back to the present, making the blood rush through his neck and his heart hammer in his sternum.

"What?" He asked, caught off-guard. He sounded meaner than he had meant to, but Evelyna didn't flinch. He doubted he could scare her if he tried.

"Are you happy?" She asked, removing her hand from his shoulder and heading towards a shelf of wine bottles.

Fenris stood for a moment and stared after her._ Happy?_ No. He had never been happy. He had been relieved at times. He had been put at ease at others. When he killed Danarius and Hadriana, when he emerged from the bowels of Blackreach with his head still attached, when he had felt the breeze for the first time since then - those were some of the best times. But happy? It was a stretch.

"Your friends are here, and they're well. You must be glad," she said as she plucked a bottle from the shelf and popped the cork, glancing at him. He still hadn't moved.

"Er," he managed, his voice sounding thin and worn, "yes. I'm relieved, I suppose."

She scoffed and poured a glass of the wine before handing it to him. He caught her eye and realized there was something dire on the edge of her lips. And then -

"Are your friends going to harm me, Fenris?"

He seemed to regain control over himself, blinking at her and taking a long swig of wine before he dared to answer. Time stretched long and far as he moved and sat himself down in a chair before the fire. Solemnly, he swirled the wine in his glass and murmured, "No, they won't."

"Are you?"

For a moment the only sound was Meeko sniffing loudly at the food on the table; just a few loafs of bread and some vegetables. Fenris thought he was choking for a moment before he looked sternly at Evelyna. "What?"

She poured her own glass of wine, somewhat unsteadily. He had never seen her like this; nervous in such a small situation. On the grand scheme of things, this day would be meaningless, his relationship with her even less so. But it was making her tremble. The mighty Dragonborn. She had a country to save, and she was anxious about meeting a few people. But he knew her worry. He had been the same way the day he met his sister.

"You know very well what I asked."

He shook his head and took another sip of his wine as Evelyna lowered herself calmly in the chair near him, watching him. "You're still concussed, if you would ask me that." He stared at her sternly for a moment.

She didn't respond, but Fenris noticed that even when she went to draw her own bath, she never disarmed herself. Her axes hung, swinging softly from her hips, never further away than a flick of the wrist. He ate half a loaf of bread as he sat and stoked the fire, drinking down his wine with anxiety regarding the impending meeting. What would Hawke say? What would Hawke do? Was Lydia overreacting or did they truly think that Evelyna was a threat?

She _was_ a threat - but not to Garrett, not to Fenris. Dragons had more pressing issues than wolves and hawks. Surely it wouldn't be difficult to convince his friends that she was not the enemy here. If anything they should band behind her like a small, damned army. Skyrim desperately needed an army to fight on her behalf. Not these Stormcloaks and Imperials nonsense.

It occurred to him as Evelyna stepped out of the bath (in furs and tight leathers, all menacing and wild and beautiful) that they might imagine he's been taken unwillingly.

_A hostage._

He swallowed hard, fingers gripping his iron wine glass with intensity. He had been a hostage all his life, and those closest to him believed him_ still_ to be one. What was it the witch said long ago? _Your chains are broken but are you free?_ The bitter fucking_ irony_. He was more free here than he had ever been. He finished his wine and poured the remainder of the bottle in it. He would want a clear head for his meeting with Hawke, but he needed the escape just as badly.

Fenris and Evelyna hadn't spoken since that inane question, where she had asked if he would hurt her. He brought his drink of wine with him as he drew his own bath, listening for any unusual sounds, replaying the moment in his mind when she asked him that question. He could shake her for questioning him like that, and could tear his own hair out for the same.

Warm water spilled through Fenris' fingers as Evelyna had begun to prepare dinner, her humming drifting in pieces through the walls to where he was, submerging himself in warm water. The water was a blessing. Immediately it began to soothe his muscles, his coiled and wound-up tension drawn tight as a bowstring in his back and shoulders. He sat for some time, eyes shut as he listened to the sounds of the house; of Evelyna rustling about in the kitchen.

After he scrubbed himself clean, he left the bath and donned clean clothes. He wore a dark sleeveless tunic with a wolf pelt handing around one shoulder and beneath the other, with dark trousers wrapped in pelts and a belt of bear teeth. He pulled on his Orcish boots and his signature gauntlets before heading back into the living area. The looking glass in the bathroom showed him a person he couldn't ever remember seeing.

His stark-white hair had grown out so that it brushed his shoulders, too long for his liking. The animal furs and leathers he wore made him look like a Nord, or a native of Skyrim, rather, but his ears would always be pointed and his features always sharp. He had always been lean and strong, but the journey across the ocean had weakened him considerably while adding a small amount to his weight. He was back to his taut and thin physique, thanks to fighting dragons and blind, elven ex-slaves. The thought made him shudder.

He didn't miss Evelyna's eyes pass over him as he stepped out, dressed in wolf pelts and bear teeth. Her eyes widened and she turned away abruptly, knocking her knee into the bench before the table. Subtlety was not her greatest strength. She didn't fear him, which was calming on an intrinsic level. Instead of feeling objectified, like he would at Danarius' parties, this was a look that he_ wanted,_ he realized. He wanted her to want_ him_. The realization almost made him sick.

Fenris went again for the wine. The house was starting to smell delicious; a thick stew of lamb, carrots and potatoes roasted over the fire. Meeko was sprawled out alongside the crackling fire, snoring happily, exhausted from their travels.

Lydia had supplied the home with fresh food, as she always did. Evelyna leaned over the table to place a pie in the center of all six seats. Fenris noticed the curve of her body as she leaned over, the stiff way she stepped away and recounted the silverware. She was anxious, and it showed. She chewed on her bottom lip and flexed her fingers before sweeping past him to stir the stew.

Their silence was uncomfortable, on edge, due to where they had last left off. Fenris sighed and found himself clearing his throat. "Evelyna," he said, "you're upset."

She stirred the lamb stew and shook her head stubbornly. When he was in the bath she had pulled half of it back and made a braid on either side of her face, accentuating her narrow features and elven ears. Still soaked, her hair dripped water down her back and chest beneath her leathers and between her breasts. When Fenris caught himself staring, he knew he had to gather himself.

"Do you think I'm a threat to you, Evelyna?"

As direct as a physical blow, the question had brought Evelyna to a lull in her storm, a stillness. She seemed entranced with the fire, almost lost in herself. But his question was drawing her out from the darkness, nudging the dragon from the depths of her thoughts, like pulling a drowning man from the sea.

"No," she murmured, before turning to look at him. "But I feel like an animal that's walked into a trap and is only beginning to realize it. But by now it's clamped down on my leg and all my screaming and crying will do is bring the hunters closer."

"And yet you're cooking them dinner," he felt his lip curling in wry, bitter humor. But this wasn't funny, and he didn't think it particularly was.

"I don't know about in Thedas, but here... if you feed someone in your home, they are bound not to harm you."

He swallowed hard. "Tevinter has a similar custom." He straddled the bench at the table and rested his elbow on its surface. "Magisters are so often trying to set each other up so they can climb their own ladder."

"Hmm," she replied, turning back to the fire.

"Are you afraid of my companions?"

She didn't respond for a moment. "You say many things about them, especially Hawke. That he murdered his best friend, that he fought dragons and ogres, that he was the Champion of Kirkwall and was treated as a king. That all of Thedas bows at his feet. He does not sound like the kind of man I want as my enemy."

"I doubt he wants any more enemies," Fenris mused. "He's generally a reasonable man. Besides," he took a breath and steeled himself. It had to be said, though it felt like he was plunging himself headlong into frozen water, "I won't let anyone harm you."

To his immense relief, she didn't look at him as he confessed it. With the assurance, she seemed to relax, ever so slightly. "More wine?" She asked, as if the wine had a part in him saying that.

With a small nod, Fenris obliged and allowed Evelyna to fill his mug with sweet, spiced wine. The perpetual scent of pine clung to her, but he could also smell something more; a perfume, perhaps, that she had used after her bath. Like wildflowers. It was fitting, so much so that he had to suppress a fleeting smile.

Evelyna stood within arm's reach of Fenris to fill his glass, and he wondered what she would do if he dragged her down to sit with him. If he kissed her, like he had meant to when they emerged from the bowels of Blackreach, all covered in Falmer shit and gore. She was a pretty and fierce thing now, despite her sharp incisors and narrow features, and that Maker-awful scar that spanned half her thigh, and the claw marks she got from a Sabre-tooth. Yes, she was pretty now with her hair braided and no more gunk caked in her skin, smelling nice with her hair dripping clean water down her back and between her breasts. But when she was flushed with battle and smeared with dirt, or the naked woman stepping into the frozen creek, that's the Evelyna he found himself thinking of when he shut his eyes.

He met her gaze as she set his glass down, and he forced himself to look away, almost feeling as if she could hear his thoughts. Guilt spanned his inner existence/

_I shouldn't want her, _he knew._ I belong to no one. _She was the Dragonborn besides, he would be a burden to her if he were any more than a fighting partner. Just like Blackreach had stolen all of her vigor, all of her livelihood, wouldn't he do the same? He was so alike Blackreach in all the ways that mattered, wouldn't he be the worst man for her? She could have a northern man; a man like Jon Battle-Born with his warm eyes and logic regarding trivial feuds and deadly wars. And he sent her furtive glances at The Bannered Mare that Fenris had noticed. She could have one of the Companions, a man with honor with a respectable past; a man who hadn't killed his saviors or murdered innocent people.

Fenris swallowed and shut his eyes. He was Blackreach in elven form. He was all dark and deadly and infested with nothing but cold rage. But these other men were the open, rolling tundra with the breeze and sunshine and the cries of the hawks, loons and wolves. It would be a tragedy for the dragon, who needed the open air, to settle for a man like him.

"Are you nervous?" She asked him, stepping away. If she knew what he was thinking, she didn't show it. In her eyes he saw a wariness that he normally only saw in her before battle. But she wasn't only wary anymore. She was determined. She was_ ready_. He was glad to see it.

"I'm not nervous." He took a breath. "Evelyna, I have some things to give you." Whatever happened, he could be in her debt no longer. He took a swig of wine and got up, heading into the bathroom where he had left his dirty clothes. He rummaged through his pockets and found all of the gems and jewelry he had stolen from Blackreach. They needed to be cleaned and polished, for they had been sitting in the dark, dusty caverns of the underworld, but they were valuable enough to buy her Whiterun, he was sure.

When he stepped back into the main area of Breezehome, Evelyna was staring into her wine, standing near the fire. She looked up at him somberly, glancing into his hands. Her mouth parted, as if to speak.

"I want you to have this," he said. "You've paid for food, lodging, armor, weapons, a horse. I've been a burden to you, I just don't want to be in your debt anymore."

Evelyna didn't reach out to take it. Her hazel eyes were glassy as she stared at him, holding her glass of wine to her chest. "I don't want that, Fenris. Please."

There was a rustling at the door. Fenris felt his stomach churn, his heart sink. Was it Lydia? _Hawke_? Dammit, it was too soon.

"Bloody woman," he growled before dumping the contents of his hands on a bookshelf. "I never wanted charity."

Before he could look at her, the door swung open to Breezehome and the afternoon light poured into the house.

The curvy, dark-skinned beauty that stepped inside could only be Isabela.

Fenris felt nauseous immediately. This was it. They had found him, or he had found them. It didn't really matter anymore. He vaguely noticed Evelyna's hand drop to the hilt of her axe on her hip, which the Pirate Queen noticed immediately. She hadn't even seen him yet - only took in the sight of Evelyna as a threat. Isabela, who wore less-revealing armor than usual, had her daggers drawn before Fenris could blink.

He grabbed Evelyna by the arm and pulled her towards him, calling attention to himself and his presence. She stumbled into his chest and wrenched her arm from his vice, drawing her axes from her hips and crouching, snarling at the rogue.

But Isabela had seen him, as did Hawke who stood at her flank. The daggers remained drawn in a tense standoff.

"Elf!" Varric was the first one to shout, squeezing in behind Hawke. He cast a cautious glance at the Dragonborn and nodded acknowledgement to them both. He had a bit more grace than most in these situations.

Fenris was scowling. "Put your weapons away, Isabela," he said. "You too," he took her arm in his hand again, but didn't squeeze like he had before. Evelyna had her bottom lip trapped in her teeth, ready to pounce. Then her head swiveled slowly, just slightly, and she glanced at Fenris. He only had to nod his reassurance._ I won't let them harm you,_ he wanted to say.

Isabela sheathed her daggers reluctantly, brown eyes watching Evelyna solemnly. Her hands remained close to the dagger hilts, ready if Evelyna were to make the wrong move.

Fenris saw Merrill standing behind Varric. Everyone looked somewhat the same, though wearing new armor. Hawke had a full-blown beard, and Varric even had some scruff to him, though he had lost some of his heartiness. Isabela had lost weight also, and the Skyrim armor looked silly on her.

They were all alive. They were here. Relief swam through him, swelling as Evelyna begrudgingly hung her axes from her hips again and straightened her spine.

Hawke was the first to move as the situation began to calm. He looked ragged and tired, but not as terrible as he had when they had fled Kirkwall all those months ago. Hawke thrived when he had a goal, something to do. He stepped forward with a broken smile and extended his hand.

Fenris took a moment to process what was happening. He gave his own hand and they shook, smirking at each other.

"Hawke," Fenris grinned. "Isabela, Varric, Merrill."

Varric clapped him on the arm, and then regarded Evelyna seriously as Merrill, the stupid thing, hugged Fenris. Isabela had a bit more common sense, so she kept her distance, and Fenris remained at Evelyna's side.

"This is Evelyna," he told them, putting a palm uncertainly on the small of her back. He wouldn't normally touch her, but she needed to relax, and he hoped it would do the trick. She was tense and coiled, as if ready to attack at a moment's notice. No one had their weapons drawn, but everyone was thinking of it.

Meeko sniffed at Hawke's feet and then licked Varric's face. Varric pushed him away and then seemed to be the only one that could pick up the pieces of their encounter. "Evelyna, nice to meet you. What a beautiful home you have. Thank you for your hospitality."

This wasn't a beautiful home by Varric's standards, but Fenris wouldn't point it out. And neither would anyone else in the presence of the other volatile elf. Fenris looked at Evelyna beside him, and he splayed his fingers on her leathers reassuringly.

She swallowed and nodded to them, before forcing a painful smile to show on her face. "Welcome," she said. "We've been searching for you."

Isabela glanced between Fenris and Evelyna before turning to look at Hawke. She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, and Hawke cleared his throat and nodded to Evelyna.

"We received your letter in Solitude, we came as soon as we could."

Fenris took his hand away from Evelyna's back. "Evelyna had obligations, so we could not linger in Solitude," he provided vaguely.

Uncertainty flickered between the others. They still thought him a hostage, he realized. A hostage who had affection for- his captor. Oh, how bloody _bitter_ the irony of how history repeated itself.

And yet it hadn't. He was no hostage. Any obligation he owed to Evelyna was paid. He had given her much of his loot from Blackreach, had even saved her life. She could buy herself a new house with their wealth, a jarlship even, if women were allowed. And yet, on a deeper level, he could never repay her. She had saved his life, nursed him to health, and coaxed him into the harsh, wild land of Skyrim all gentle and patient. He would never do that for a stranger. She was a better elf than he ever could hope to be.

"I did not know anything when we crashed," he added, "on how to survive, on where I was. Evelyna taught me, and she saved my life. She's no enemy of yours."

Four pairs of wary eyes were focused on him; four more than he would have wanted. "Why did she draw her weapons?" Isabela asked, putting her hands on her hips, but sounding calm.

Evelyna spoke up. "I had strangers coming into my home uninvited. It's my instinct. I had my hands on my weapon before you, but your weapons were drawn first."

"She's no threat to you and you're no threat to her, understand?" Fenris looked at his companions pointedly.

Varric began to chuckle. "Who would've thought the Elf would be mediating a conflict?"

He felt his own mouth curl into a light grin, a soft chuckle rumbling in his throat. "You haven't lost your wit, have you, Dwarf?"

Varric smirked and shook his head. "Not a chance in the Fade. Or, I mean, Atherous."

"Aetherius," Fenris corrected, lip curled slightly in amusement. "And don't worry, she knows where we're from." He took a breath and looked at his companion, his_ friend_. He knew how she felt inside, and he felt a somewhat overwhelming urge to pull her to him. She felt now like he had when he was a slave, a captive under Danarius' thumb. There was a constant, unwavering anxiety in this state of being that threatened to cripple those that were the strongest mentally. Fenris could remember that fear, he had lived in it for so long.

Hawke's eyes scanned Evelyna's body and armor, and lingered on her weapons. Fenris couldn't help his lip curling. "It isn't her blade you should worry about, Hawke."

Isabela grinned, catching on. "They say the Dragonborn fights with her voice," Isabela began, her teeth pinching her bottom lip, "that she's a savage thing from the wilderness who frightens dragons and makes men cower."

"Not all men," Varric coughed. Isabela chuckled.

But Hawke seemed sympathetic. His brow was furrowed as he examined the elf woman before him. Hawke knew the burden that a title brought with it, he knew the responsibility of being that 'hero', of being that focus of a whole people expecting you to save them. Fenris didn't know that feeling, but he knew it existed. And he knew it was crushing.

"Well, Varric," Isabela said, grinning wickedly, "we don't know how they are in bed. Maybe he does cower, or -"

He could feel a growl rumbling in his throat.

"Shh," Hawke said, and Fenris felt the heat rush up his neck. He tried not to look at Evelyna, but he couldn't help it. Like always, he was drawn to her.

Her pointed ears were slightly pink as she regarded Isabela with an uncertainty Fenris was sure many felt in her presence, and then she laughed. Fenris felt relief blow through him as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Or you know what," Isabela continued, egged on and encouraged by the laughter, "I bet the dynamic switches. Hmm, Fenris?"

"Watch yourself," Fenris said, without any venom.

"Ah, he still won't joke about sex, will he?" Isabela asked.

"No," Evelyna said, visibly trying not to laugh. Fenris realized that the two probably shouldn't be left alone together.

"Then he hasn't changed a bit," Merrill chimed in, and Isabela chuckled.

Fenris cleared his throat, uneasy with the situation. Leave it to Isabela and Varric to make light of such a tense moment. "Evelyna has taken the time to make dinner for us, for you. In Skyrim it is custom that if you break bread with someone, you are bound to protect them in their home." A bit of a stretch, but he knew it would do.

Hawke glanced at his friends, as if unsure if Fenris was on their side or hers. "We won't harm her, Fenris."

He nodded, taking a moment to look at Evelyna's posture. She looked a bit more relaxed, but not much.

"Lydia never cooked for us," Isabela grinned, glancing at the pot of stew roasting over the fire. "You've found a keeper, Fenris."

Fenris opened his mouth to protest, but Isabela continued. "Be warned, Evelyna, we eat as much as your average army."

Evelyna was smiling, to Fenris' surprise. The two were wild enough to be the best of friends, he realized. A frightening thought as he didn't want Isabela rubbing off too much on Evelyna.

Not missing a beat, Evelyna picked up a bottle of wine. "Well, I drink like one, so I think we can compromise."

For the first time, Hawke chuckled and Varric seemed immediately at ease, a grin on his newly bearded face. Fenris shifted and gestured at the table, his Tevinter mannerisms emerging. Getting the guests seated was always the trickiest part. Once the wine began to flow, everyone always relaxed.

Fenris watched Evelyna as Hawke seated himself at the table beside Isabela, across from Merrill and Varric. She looked like she wanted to shrink away, like the world could open up and swallow her and she'd be fine with it all. He put himself at the table beside Varric and passed the bottle of wine to the Dwarf.

"So, Elf, what happened to you? Start from the beginning," Varric directed, pouring a mug of wine and handing the bottle to Merrill, who sniffed it and then scrunched her nose. She wasn't much of a drinker.

"Well," Fenris turned his mug in his hands, feeling the cool iron beneath his palms. He looked at Evelyna, who was stirred the stew. The firelight cast an eerie glow from below, and he saw her looking at him. In the light her eyes looked hot and firey. "I woke up in a camp, four or five days after we wrecked. What - what happened on the ship? I don't remember."

Varric shook his head. "Elf, you went down like a sack of rocks. Hawke slipped and kicked your legs out from under you. The deck was almost vertical thanks to the dragon and the storm, and you went sailing into the rails, knocking yourself out. I'm surprised your sword didn't skewer you.

"Anyway, you were unconscious. Meanwhile, the dragon was tearing apart the ship like a child's doll, and everyone was occupied trying to kill it. Isabela was dancing around it, Hawke bashed it in the face with his shield, Daisy's fireballs were soaring into it's flanks. It's teeth were a tall as my head and it's claws could slice through me in one sweep.

"So naturally, I ran, to help you. The ship was going down, and we weren't going to kill this beast. I tied you up to a plank that the dragon had ripped from the hull. Your sword went over the edge without a bloody sound, Elf. And as the waves began to engulf the deck, I pushed you over the railing and into the water."

Fenris found himself glancing at Evelyna, who remained on the periphery, cooking their dinner. Hawke was watching her too, Fenris noticed. She had her eyes focused, but Fenris knew she was listening to every word, dissecting everything.

"And what happened to you four?" Fenris asked.

"We found each other on the beach, near the cliffs of Solitude. Isabela and Hawke swam together, and I washed up near Daisy. We hid in the hills, and Hawke and Isabela went into Solitude looking for you. We were sure you were dead, Elf, until we got that letter. Even then..."

Fenris noticed Evelyna go still, but she said nothing. "She found me on the beach," Fenris said. "Something happened to my leg."

"You were cut when I tied you up to the wood, too," Varric provided. "I think your sword did it. I knew that thing was an omen," he grinned.

Fenris cleared his throat and took a long swig of his wine.

"Since then," Hawke said, "We've been busy. We used the money for armor and weapons, and it seemed like for every half a mile we walked towards Whiterun, we got caught in some kind of mission or task. We had to find some beacon in a cave for a talking statue, some woman named Meridia -"

"Meridia?" Evelyna asked, grabbing the pot with rags in her hands. She began to walk towards them to serve the stew. "You did a task for the Daedric Prince Meridia?"

No one seemed to understand the severity of this, aside from Fenris and Evelyna. "They're abominations, of a sort," Fenris explained. "They're evil."

Evelyna tilted her head. "Well, Fenris, even Meridia is... she's one of the few considered benevolent, like Azura. She hates the undead and necromancers."

"Yes," Merrill cut in, "we had to kill a necromancer for her. Malkoran was his name."

Fenris swallowed a swig of wine and frowned. "Still, the Daedra aren't to be played with."

On that, Evelyna did support him. She nodded. "I try to avoid them," she said as she filled Hawke's bowl with stew.

"What have you two done for the past few months?" Hawke asked, smiling at Evelyna as she passed him his bowl. "Thank you."

Evelyna glanced at Fenris as she filled Merrill's bowl, and then Isabela's. Fenris decided to answer.

"We've been going across Skyrim, trying to find ways to stall the dragons. They're - do you know much of them, here?"

Varric tilted his chin and then nodded his thanks to Evelyna as she filled his bowl. Hawke shook his head. "We know that they're coming back, but people seem more concerned with a civil war."

Fenris nodded. "Well, Evelyna has reluctantly accepted the task of trying to solve this issue," Fenris provided. "And since we crashed in Solitude, I've been helping her. Or trying to."

"As the Dragonborn..." Varric began, "What does that mean? This is your responsibility now?"

She filled Isabela's bowl and then Fenris' before serving herself. She sat down before explaining, across from Fenris and beside Isabela. "Being Dragonborn means that I have a dragon's blood in my veins, and I have their soul. I can speak the dragon language, and it's a weapon. A different kind of magic, really. I'm the only one we know of right now that can speak it, beside the Greybeards, but they have to study for years to learn a word, and they would not resort to violence against the dragons."

"Why can't anyone speak it?" Isabela asked, taking a bite of the stew. Evelyna took a swig of her wine and met eyes with Fenris across the table.

"Anyone can, you just have to study for a long time to speak it. I could tell you how to pronounce a word, but you'd only be able to really speak it through years of meditation."

"You said you're the only one?" Hawke wondered.

"Yes, right now. I'm the first one in... centuries."

"And what can you do?" Isabela wondered, taking another generous bite of the stew.

Fenris could tell she wasn't feeling up to explaining it. So he butted in. "She can do a lot with it. She can throw a man like a doll, she can see living creatures miles away at night with no light. It's versatile."

Evelyna smirked and drank down more of her wine.

"This is delicious," murmured Merrill, and everyone spoke their agreement.

"Thank you," Evelyna smiled politely at them all and Fenris could see her breathe deeply in relief. Perhaps supper would not be as tense as he imagined, with everyone twitching towards their weapons, watching Evelyna's every breath. Perhaps dinner would not end in bloodshed and tears.

And it didn't. It moved along with progressing ease, correlating with how freely the wine flowed. Fenris found himself telling his friends briefly of his adventures with Evelyna - of High Hrothgar, of Blackreach. He kept certain things to himself - many things, in fact. Her naked in the streams, their moment in the hot springs, saving her from the Centurion, their argument over Paarthurnax, the night they spent in the ice floes beneath furs trying to keep warm. These were all things he would not share with anyone, things he kept to himself.

And Hawke told him about their adventures as well. They had gone on many quests to clear out caves and bandits, as well as retrieve lost or stolen items from various dangerous locations. Hawke was in his element when he had things to do and people to help, and Skyrim was feeding his soul. He was more alive than he had been since his mother died.

Hawke's eyes had a glint to them, a vigor, that Fenris could remember from back when he was younger and happier and the people he loved were mostly alive. Isabela seemed happy enough, though Fenris knew she would be in her element more if she had a swaying deck below her feet. Varric's jaw was set as he seemed to cringe at the barbaric way of life in Skyrim, casting long looks at the animal heads up for display and the fur rugs, the carved weapons. Merrill seemed aloof as always, as if Skyrim hadn't affected her either way.

Their plates were left abandoned at their elbows as everyone drank from their cups and chatted. Fenris swirled his wine in his mug and gazed at Evelyna over the steel rim of his cup. She was trying to answer everyone's questions as well as she could; who is Ulfric Stormcloak? What's the World-Eater? Who's ruling? Does it get any warmer? You've never heard of Thedas? No one's sailed to the southeast? Where are you from? Would anyone take us back home?

It was Merrill who had asked, and the question snapped Fenris' attention to the conversation. He shifted his head and looked at her, bewildered. They wouldn't go back, would they?

"What does Thedas have for any of us?" He found himself asking. "We are all accomplices to Hawke, and mostly everyone wants Hawke's head on a spike. We're better off here. Where Hawke's name isn't being used to start a war to unleash abominations throughout the land."

Uncomfortable, twisting silence ensued. Fenris felt all eyes upon him. He was right, he knew.

"I should be where I'm most helpful, Fenris," Hawke murmured, twining his fingers through Isabela's. "I'm doing small errands for people here, but there's injustice going on across the sea, and I could play a part in it. I know I'm being viewed as some sort of rebel king, but I could help. I could help in something bigger than this."

Fenris glanced at Evelyna, who was watching Hawke stoically, fingers tight around her steel mug. Her hazel eyes flitted to Fenris and the dim light of the room made them seem glassy and sorrowful.

"What's happening here," Fenris continued, "is bigger than that."

"The dragons aren't my fight," Hawke said, casting an apologetic glance at Evelyna. "The mages shouldn't be mine either, but they are."

Fenris bit the inside of his cheek, irritated, and took another long swig of his wine. "And what will you do for them, Hawke? The Chantry is going to make an example out of you. They'll kill you to suppress the rebellion."

Hawke tilted his head as if to agree. "I know, but... isn't it wrong to run away like I did?"

"Cullen let us escape, we had to," Isabela said softly.

Hawke looked at the Dragonborn, who visibly tensed. "Would anyone be willing to sail us back across the sea?"

She took a breath and met eyes with Fenris' four friends. "I... couldn't say. I don't think so. You could try to convince a captain that you're from another land across the ocean, but if you tell him about the war and chaos, why would he sail there? Why would any captain want to sail to their death? You would have the best luck with a man who wants to go down in history as an explorer. And is that the kind of person you want to entrust with your life out at sea for five months? Otherwise, there is no profit sailing to a wartorn country."

Isabela nodded in agreement. "I say we commandeer a ship."

"It'd have to be a pirate ship, so the trading companies don't hunt you down."

"Oh, I know, love," Isabela smiled at Evelyna. "I was a pirate captain for many years."

Evelyna's eyes widened. "Then I trust you would have no troubles."

"You'll be sailing back then?" Fenris asked, incredulous but maintaining his composure. "All of you?"

"You won't?" Varric asked sincerely.

Fenris felt his blood boiling. "You want me to sail with the four of you to your death as you try to free the abominations?" He scoffed and took a long swig of his wine, finishing the mug. "Disregard what the abomination did in Kirkwall. Do not think he is the only one capable of that."

"Not all of us-" Merrill began.

"Do not speak to me of what you're capable of," Fenris growled, pointing a finger at her. "How many deaths are you responsible for because of your ignorance?" He pushed off of the bench and walked out of Breezehome before he bubbled over and screamed.

Outside the day had fallen away, with lanterns, the moon and stars providing the only light. Whiterun, as always, was a lively place, even at night. The air was balmy and lukewarm with summer. The smell of cedars and cherrywood drifted through the streets, and far off wolfhounds were barking and owls hooting. A pair of Nords were drunkenly singing Ragnar the Red outside of The Drunken Huntsman, laughing and clanking their mugs together.

Guards walked past, paying Fenris little mind. The sky was glowing and beautiful, expansive and blanketing Skyrim below it.

He stepped away from the door to Breezehome and around the side, slipping into the dark shadows cast by the home. He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the roof of stars above, watching them glitter and sparkle.

The door to Breezehome opened and shut, and he cursed inwardly. Who was fool enough to follow him?

_Evelyna_.

He had never stormed out on her, so why would she know how to react? The others knew to give him space, but she wouldn't. He straightened himself and looked towards the street, and saw Evelyna watching him, a solemn look on her face.

She stepped into the darkness with him, and he vaguely felt her shoulder brush against his arm as she leaned back against the wall of the house as well, and enjoyed the stars with him.

Ragnar the Red ended across the street, and up began the song of the Dragonborn. Fenris felt a chuckle escape him.

"_Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart..."_

"Don't laugh," Evelyna said, and he could hear her smiling. "I'm sick of this fucking song."

Fenris scoffed, and felt his fury dripping away. "Are you still afraid of those fools in there?"

"No. They're amicable."

"Hmm." Fenris shook his head. "I can't believe they want to sail back to Thedas."

"You don't want to?" Her voice was curious and gentle. Fenris looked at her, but the darkness had shrouded her aside from the dim reflection in her eyes.

"_Venhedis_," he murmured, steeling himself against the onslaught of images and memories in his mind. He could sail away to Thedas, for sure, and leave her behind. He could see her in his mind naked in the river, covered in falmer shit, unconscious before the centurion, conversing with Paarthurnax. She was such a thing to behold at all times, such a force. He was in awe of her, and normally no one impressed him.

Even so, she couldn't do this by herself. Alduin would rip her apart, he knew, and that image bothered him deeply. He had seen it in his nightmares; the hope of an entire continent drowning, her being torn to shreds by the razor teeth of the most fearsome dragon known to me.

"There's nothing for me in Thedas," he growled. "I have no family, no property."

"And here you have more?"

He sucked on his teeth and looked at the pale reflections in her eyes. "No. But here I am just a man, just an elf. In Thedas I'm a lyrium warrior. Danarius doesn't prowl my tracks any longer, but my price would buy a kingdom in Tevinter. I'm sure there are magisters who know I'm out there, somewhere, and they'd send small armies after me to catch me. Nobody cares here, nobody's heard of lyrium."

She nodded in the dark. "Here you're free."

He looked away, at the stars all full and beautiful in the sky. It was overwhelming; all of it, everything. His inside - that he had kept buried for years and years - threatened to overpower his will. Free. _Free_.

His whole life he had never been free. Even when he had left Danarius, when he had _murdered_ Danarius, the chains were bonding and burdensome. He only trusted himself (and to some extent Hawke, Isabela, Varric, Aveline and Donnic) and always looked over his shoulder. Slavery was never far from his thoughts. Terror never far from his dreams.

"Free," Fenris pronounced the word slowly, calmly. The stars pulsed in the sky, thick and all tangled in each other. Constellations gazed down at him, at all the world; on Thedas and Tamriel alike. Across the ocean cities were burning, mages rebelling, templars pulling their hair out, witches running wild and creating chaos. Ah, he was so much better off here, with the dragons and the wolves and the rolling tundra and smoky cities nestled among the jagged mountains. He was better here, at the side of the Dragonborn, a woman as fearsome as she was wild, as lithe as she was beautiful. Though he hadn't always thought she was beautiful; that at least he recognized was something new to him.

"Free," Evelyna repeated back to him. "Free to whatever you fucking please, Fenris. Change your name, sail to Thedas, stay here, become an assassin, a thief, a companion, a vampire hunter or necromancer hunter. Free to build a house in the woods and live away from the rest of this nonsense. Free to marry and have little babes running at your feet. Free to go to Valenwood and become a cannibal. Free to be alone in solitude, in desolation and beauty."

She was pushing. But it was a push he needed, especially from her.

"And what of you, Evelyna?" He rumbled. "You are free to do as you wish. And yet you bow to your responsibilities."

She blinked at him in the darkness. "A dilemma for the ages."

"What would you wish me to do? Should I sail back to Thedas with them, or would you have me fight by your side?" He swallowed noisily and pushed off from the side of the home, wiping his hands on the pelts hanging at his narrow hips.

He was overcome, overwhelmed. Oftentimes, he wasn't sure if he wanted to shake her or kiss her. This was one of those moments. His inside - that he struggled to keep buried for years - threatened to overpower him. He wanted so many things, and ignored those wants because he had had to. But here, he didn't have to. He could want whatever he wanted, he could pursue those wants. He _was_ free.

She seemed sorrowful as she spoke again. "My wishes should not concern you in this, Fenris. This is not my freedom, but yours."

"Damned woman," he growled, finding his hands on her arms, clutching her tightly, fingers digging in just below her steel pauldron. He pinned her against the wall of her home, feeling his frustration and his lust burning him from the inside. She was completely, frigidly still beneath his grip. And he was borderline trembling with the effort of holding himself together, of grappling with his realized freedom, his world stretched before him.

_Step back,_ he told himself. _What are you doing?_ He meant to let go, to apologize and duck back into Breezehome to deal with his lesser fears and demons. The night yawned around them, shrouded them in pitch black.

Fenris loosened his grip on her, still shaking, but his hands moved to her face. His fingers splayed on her cheeks, ears and neck, feeling her hot pulse beneath his palm. He tilted her face towards his and bowed his head, leaning their foreheads against the other's. His breathing was ragged and shallow, shoulders trembling.

"I shouldn't want you," he growled, bubbling over. He shut his eyes and held her against the wall, wishing he hadn't spoken, hadn't gone this far already. But he had, and she wasn't stopping him. Her pulse was hammering beneath his touch, chest rising high. And then he felt her hands tentatively reach for his shoulders, splaying out on the backs of them.

She wanted him too. It wasn't all just words and tricks, torturous flirting at his expense.

Fenris descended upon her mouth like a man starved.


End file.
